


Money is (not) everything

by LoenaAdams



Category: WTFock | Skam (Belgium)
Genre: Boyfriends, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Getting Together, Getting to Know Each Other, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-18
Updated: 2020-05-27
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:22:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 49,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24251266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoenaAdams/pseuds/LoenaAdams
Summary: Leo Driesen was the example of a man who had it all.He was extremely wealthy, had a beautiful wife, two smart and good looking children, owned several companies, lived in a stunning villa and he didn't look a day past 30.At least that was what the world saw.Nobody knew that he had another child with a different mother, or that his oldest daughter was addicted to drugs, that his only son was mentally unstable and the fact that he had trouble staying sober for a whole day.Nobody cared really. The only saw the cars, the swimming pools, the party's, the houses, only the good stuff.The story of posh boy Sander and normal teenage boy Robbe.
Relationships: Sander Driesen/Robbe IJzermans
Comments: 79
Kudos: 316





	1. Prologue

Sander didn't want to get out of bed. He couldn't do it physically and mentally. His body felt like it weighed a ton. He tried to shut out the voices inside his head but the only got louder. Screaming for attention, all at once. 

It was too loud to handle. 

'Sander sweetheart are you coming? We have to leave in a few minutes.'

His mother is standing in front of his door. 

When he doesn't respond, she slowly opens the door. 

Only the find her son who is twenty-one years of age sobbing in his bed like a baby. 

Sander feels the mattress move when his mother sits on the edge. She strokes his recently bleached hair softly. 'Can I do anything for you?'

She sounded helpless. 

Sanders stays quiet, hoping she would go away so that he can be alone. The sound of her breathing is too loud. 

'Justine, where are you? We need to leave now!'

His father's low voice fills the bedroom. Sander wishes he had his headphones so that he could put them on. 

'Again? This is the third time already this month!'

'Shuss, you know that it is not his fault. The doctors told you that remember?'

His dad probably nods because he doesn't say anything. The sounds of his heavy footsteps make it clear that he is already leaving. 

He can still hear his mother breathing. So he gathers all energy in his body to ask her a question. 

'Headphones?' 

it is barely a whisper but his mother understands him. 'Here my love, try to get some rest.'

Sander just shuts his eyes, wanting every single sound in his head gone. 

'Do you want me to put them on?' 

Even though he doesn't respond he feels his mother soft hand handing him his headphone. 'I have put on David Bowie playlist. Maybe it will help.' 

His mother sounds desperate which increases Sanders pain. 

He wishes he could tell that everything would be okay but he can't. He really can't.

The noise in his head turns down a little when he can focus on the lyrics from Sons of the Silent Age.

* * *

It takes three whole days for Sander to get out of his room, to feel slightly human again. He takes a long shower, trying to wash his sadness away. 

He takes a couple of deep breaths before he heads downstairs. Aware of the fact that he got a big storm coming. 

Both of his parents are eating breakfast in the dining room, discussing something. Sander feels their eyes burning on him as soon as he walks in.

'Sander honey are you hungry? I can ask if Michelle can make some fresh croissant if you want to?'

Sanders shakes his head. 'Some bread is fine.' 

He can feel the tension in the air and he wishes his parents would get it over with. 

'Sander we all know that this can't continue. It is not healthy. Your mother and I have been thinking a lot. We always want the best for you and we have gotten you the best doctors and therapist of this country but it doesn't seem to work.'

Sander slowly chews at his bread that tastes like cardboard.

'I am sorry. I don't know what to do about it.' 

'Don't be sorry, sweetie. Your father and I know that it is not your fault. We have looked at some options. We can try perhaps a different medication or maybe you need to go to an institution for a while.'

His father makes a sound of disapproval. 

'You know that I don't agree with that, Justine. He needs to find a solution. We can't just drug him up and I don't want him in an institution.' 

His wife lets out a deep sigh. 

'We can hide it from the media. Maybe we can send him to a different country. I have heard that there are places in Switzerland who are specialised in treating people with bipolar.' 

A fist slams the table. 'Damn it, why can't you just listen to what I say? I don't care about what the media says. I just want my son to be happy. Not sent him off like a package to a random place where he doesn't know anybody.'

Justine starts to get red spots in her neck. 'As if I don't want the same! At least I come with some suggestions!'

'I already told you about my suggestion.' 

'I thought you were joking. You can't be serious-'

'Can I know what kind of suggestion?' Sander suddenly interrupts. He is tired of his parents arguing about him as if he isn't there. 

Both his parents stay silent for a while. 

'When Amber was struggling with her eating disorder in high school she would talk to this boy in her year. She told me he had taught more than any specialist ever. He is a volunteer at a mental health institution and I believe he studies medicines now in Antwerp. 

I have met him once before and I think he can help you. Just like he has helped Amber.' 

The name Amber doesn't ease the tension Sander can see his mother twitch at hearing the name of his half-sister. 

'This is ridiculous Leo if the best doctors can't help him, what makes you think some student boy can?'

'Because it is somebody around his own age maybe Sander and he will get along.'

'Eating disorder and bipolar are not even close!'

'I want to try it.'

Both his parents look at him quite shocked.

'if that doesn't work, I will go to Switzerland or whatever.'

His father looks at his mother with a face that looks awfully like I-told-you-so. 

'That is wonderful Sander, I will call Amber directly and see what she can do.'

'I can arrange it for myself. I am not a child.' 

'Okay then-' he gets interrupted by a phone call.

'Shit I have to take this. Sander good luck at school if you are going and speak to you later Justine. Love you both!'

His mother lets out a deep sigh. 'I also have to go. I don’t if I will be home for dinner. Will you be okay?' She runs her hand through his hair. 'Don't feel obligated to call Amber. We can still try that one doctor from-'

'It is okay mum.' 

She gives him a small smile and walks out of the dining room. 

Sander takes a deep breath and he slowly unlocks his phone, scared to find all the unread messages but it is not that bad. Some missed calls from Britt, a few voice messages from Senne, pictures of some artwork from a girl he met at a tattoo shop and some other random bullshit.

He opens the text conversation with Amber. 

_hey, can we meet up today?_

The relationship between him and his half-sister is complicated. They fought most of the times. Amber interferes with everything, she is a control-freak and Sander absolutely despite that. 

Yet they always have each other backs. 

When Amber's mother died, Sander was the first one to be at her house. He was the one that stayed with her for weeks to make sure everything was arranged. The boy didn't even know Amber's mother but it had hurt him to see his little sister so lost. 

At the same time, Amber had been there for him when he got diagnosed with bipolar disorder. She was the only one who didn't treat him like a fragile object. She bossed him still around. 

The girl was never afraid to tell him the truth. 

Sander appreciates that. 

She was one of only the real things in his fake life. 

Sander's life was perfect on paper. He could do whatever he wanted and when he wanted. 

On paper, he had a beautiful financé. 

Britt was the daughter of his mothers best friend. According to their mothers, they were made for each other. The whole engagement thing was their idea, it was an opportunity to throw a party. A party where they could expand their connections. 

Their parents didn't give a shit if they actually would get married or when.

Britt was a pretty girl, but just not for Sander. She was chill about that. 

They agreed that they would stay engaged but they weren't in a relationship. They could do whatever they want with however they wanted. 

In a few years when they were done being young, they would decide if they would get married or not. 

Britt didn't believe in love. She thought of them as a good deal. 

They could stand each other and they were both attractive. What more could they want? 

Sander was the opposite. He was a believer of true love. He desperately wanted to be loved by someone. 

One of his first therapists had laughed had him when he had shared his thoughts. 

Because apparently he was loved, loved by his parents, loved by his fiance, loved by his friends and if that wasn't enough then he could just buy love? 

That was the last time Sander had shared his thoughts with someone.

No one would ever understand him.

He knew that he sounded like a cliche teenager but he truly felt that way. 

It wasn't that Sander wasn't happy. He had his good days where he was grateful for everything and everyone in his life. 

For Senne who was one of the most chill persons alive.

For Britt who would give him physical love.

For his parents who tried.

For his older sister who always could make him smile

For Amber with who he didn't have to pretend. 

And for art. 

Art was Sander's rock. 

His light in the dark.

The only thing that would keep him standing when he was close to falling completely, his lifeline 

_Yeah sure, I am now at the gym but you can come to my place in like an hour or two. I have some guests tonight but I could cancel them if you want?_

Sander felt a smile appearing on his face. 

No matter how busy his sister was, she would always make time for him. 

Amber didn't have an easy life. 

She had been kept hidden since her birth. 

The media could never know of her existence it would ruin Leo Driessen reputation. 

Screwing around with a poor and common woman while he was married to the most beautiful woman in the world who even had blue blood. 

Emma Snoeckx and Leo Driessen had been in love but it had been a forbidden love. 

When it all got too dangerous Leo had chosen safety above love. 

He let the pregnant woman fall. At least that was what he told his wife. 

Emma got a lump sum of money to keep her mouth shut but she never disappeared. 

She claimed that her child had the right to have a father. 

Justine Driessen couldn't argue with that. So Amber was accepted during the weekends in Driessen household. 

She never fitted in because almost nobody knew who she was. She was always overlooked because no one had ever heard over her last name. She was a nobody. 

The blond girl had never complained but as soon as she realised that she wasn't exactly welcome, she moved out to live full time with her mum and never came back. 

Sander was extremely upset but he understood it. 

It was strange that nobody could know they were related. 

They kept in contact. 

Leo Driessen cared for his daughter because he still loved her mother. 

It came as a shock when Emma Snoeckx killed herself. 

No one knew the woman had been depressed expect Amber.

It turned out that was the real reason she moved out so she could take care of her mother. 

She had been seventeen years old when she lost her mother. 

Their father had invited her back to live with him but she declined. 

She was going to live with her boyfriend. 

_You don't have to cancel. I won't stay long_

He received a thumbs up from the girl. 

'Sweetie, are you done eating? I want to clean up.' 

Michelle was standing in front of him.

Sander looked at his almost untouched toast. 'Yeah, I wasn't hungry anyway.' 

The woman gives him a compassionate smile. 

'Rowan has made some croques earlier. Do you want one of them?' 

It was Sander's comfort food and she knew that. 

He loved making them and eating them since he was a child. 

Sander loved cooking anyways. 

He never had to do it because of his parent's private chefs, but as a little boy, he would go the kitchen to watch the other people work. 

They had taught him a lot of things. 

Cooking reminded him of art in some ways. It would also bring him comfort. 

Sander has spent a lot of hours in the kitchen, learning from skilled people working there. 

'I will get one myself.' 

Michelle gives him a soft nod and ruffles through his hair. 

She had been his nanny for his entire childhood. She was like a mother to him. Justine Driessen wanted to fire her when the boy had been old enough to take care of himself but he had begged her not to do it. 

He didn't want to miss Michelle, so now she worked for them as an assistant. 

'I have cleaned your bedroom, put on some fresh sheets. Oh, there are also a few packages for you that new paint you have been talking about. 

For the first times in days, Sander feels something that isn't just sadness. 'Really? Now I can finally finish that painting of that sunset.' 

'They parcels are standing in your art room.'

'Thanks, Michelle.' 

With a warm croque in his hand, he starts to open the packages. 

He saw these colours paint in a shop window from a small store in Japan when he was there. 

He was rushing towards the airport so he had no time to buy them. It had taken him two months to find the store names and when he finally had contact it turned out that they couldn't speak English. 

Sander had to call in an interpreter who could tell him that the store didn't ship. 

At moments like this, the artist was happy with money. He had offered to pay the double, handling fee and a bonus. Of course, they had agreed. 

And now the paint was finally here. 

It was the most unique colours Sander had ever seen.

The colours were real, they didn't look chemical. 

The colour scheme was composed of earthy tones. Forest green, sandstone orange, wood brown, honey gold, olive emerald, grey limestone

Sander was in love with it. 

The colours gave him comfort for an odd reason. He had never seen a colour scheme is pure as this one. 

His hands started to shake with excitement. He needed them to see on a canvas right now. 

He took his favourite brushes and made sure they were completely clean.

He didn't want to mix any other paint with pure colours.

When Sander started to paint, he would lose track of time. He had spent nights painting confused on why it was already light outside. It felt like time stopped whenever he was painting. 

He was in his own bubble. No one who disturbed him, no loud thoughts, no expectations, just him and his painting. 

Sander practically jumped out of his skin when his phone started to ring. 

'Hello?'

'Sander, where are you? You would come to my place right?'

The artist takes a look at the time. Fuck, it was already 5 pm. 

'I am sorry lost track of time. Can I still come or are your guests already there?'

'You can come, they are not my guest anyway. Just some friends from Aaron.' 

'I will be there in half an hour.'

'No hurries, I will still have time to cook if you want to stay for dinner?' 

'Yeah maybe. See you soon.' 

Sander took a step back from his painting. It was a mysterious one, he couldn't really tell what he had painted.

He refreshed himself before he walks towards his car. He was doubting if he should let a chauffeur drive him. He had taken a lot of medication over the past days but at the same time, he enjoyed driving. 

It was a short drive anyway. 

Amber's penthouse apartment was beautiful. It was big and light. Sander loved to visit even though that meant putting up with her boyfriend. Aaron was a strange kid. He was clueless and kind of dumb. He had never questioned the relationship between the artist and his girlfriend. 

Amber had never told him about her father or where she got all the money from and he had probably never asked. He founded it quite normal. 

But he truly loved Amber. He had helped her so much with her eating disorder and when her mother passed away. The boy with curled hair meant a lot to his half-sister so Sander was willing to put up with him.

'Good evening.' The blond girl presses a kiss against his cheek. 

'How are you doing? Have you already taken your medication? Or did you brought it with you? It is important to take it at regular times. Before I forget, I need to talk about you-' 

'Jesus Amber, let me come in first.' 

'Oh yeah sorry.' 

'We can sit in the living room. Aaron is on the roof with his friends. The weather is nice so perhaps we can sit on the balcony? Or do you think the sun is still too hot? I don't want to get sunburned again.'

'Amber you think too much. Let's sit outside, I haven't felt the sun in days.' 

'Bad week?' 

Sander nods. 

'New medication doesn't work? 

The boy stays just silent. 

She takes his hand. 'I promise that it will get better someday. You have to hold on and keep going' 

'I know that.' 

'Alright, I have made a salad and believe me, it is good. You can go sit on the balcony already. You know where the pillows lay, don't you? Wait otherwise I will get them for you.' 

'Amber relax, please. I can survive five minutes without a pillow.' 

She gives him a sheepish smile. 

The sun feels good on his skin. He takes off his sunglasses to fully embrace the warmth all over his face. He enjoyed the silence up here. 

Sander finally feels like he is getting back to earth again. When he had one of his episodes it felt like he wasn't grounded. He was floating above the earth. 

Sometimes it felt amazing. No one could touch him, nothing could bring him down. He would feel like he was on top of the world. But most times it wasn't like that. 

It felt more like drowning. He wanted to get back to his body but he couldn't because his body wouldn't cooperate. 

His thought was interrupted by a loud scream followed by laughter.

He startled and looks up to where the sound came from. 

'That is just Aaron, don't mind him.' 

Ambar is walking towards, carrying a plate full of food. 

'You should eat more, you look pale and skinny. That isn't healthy.' 

Sander rolls his eyes. The irony. 

Another loud scream, followed by the cutest giggles the artist has ever heard. 

Amber rolls her eyes. 'Absolutely idiots if you ask me.' 

'How is Aaron doing? He also started university this year didn't he?'

'Yeah, international business communication. He enjoys it so far.' 

'What about you? Do you like that literature stuff?'

'English language and culture, Sander.' 

'Yeah, that one.' 

'It is interesting and I have met some nice people.'

Sander gives an approving nod. 

'Are you continuing with your course?'

'Yes, this is my last year. I will get a degree at the end of it.' 

'A degree in art Sander. What do you think your job possibilities are? How are you going to make any money?'

The artist rolls his eyes. He already owned two companies from his dad. He doesn't have to do anything for it, just sign some documents so now and then. 

'I wanted to talk to you about something.' 

'I expected that.' 

Sander hesitates, he finds it difficult to talk about his problems. 

'You know that things are a bit rough for me at the moment. The medication doesn't work, talking to the therapists doesn’t work either. It is only getting worse and my parents are lost.'

Amber nods. 

'What about you? Do you feel lost?' 

'I just want to be better. I want to be back to my old self.' 

It stays silent for a while. 

'I don't know how much longer I can do this.' The artist feels tears welling up but he represses them. 

'I just want to be normal again.' 

'Sander,-' 

'I know what you are going to say and I agree with it but it doesn't feel like that. I want to feel normal.' 

Amber squeezes him in his shoulder. 'Dad mentioned that you know a guy who has helped you with your problems.' 

Suddenly there is blasting loud music. 

The girl sighs. 'They are unbelievable but do you mean Robbe?' 

Sander shrugs. 'He just told me he was in your year and that he was going to study medicines. 

'Yeah, that is probably Robbe but what about him? 

The music stops and they are back to screaming. 

'Okay, what are they doing? Boys!' Amber starts to shout. 

'What is wrong honeyponey?' Aaron's face appears above the railing. 

'Can you please be a little bit quieter? I am trying to talk to Sander.'

'Yes of course. Good to see you, Sander.' 

The artist gives him a little wave. 

'Sander? The Sander?' 

A boy with short brown hair and a darker skin colour joins Aaron by the railing. 'Oh, shut up Moyo.' 

The boy whose name is Moyo apparently starts to laugh. 'He never shuts up about you. Sander this, Sander does. Good to see you in person once.' 

There is the soft giggle again. 

'Very funny and all. Can you shut up now? We were talking.' 

'Alright boss.' Aaron gives her a wink. 

Amber shakes her head. 

'What were we talking about again? Oh yeah, Robbe. What about him?'

'Dad thought he could help me too.' 

The girl lets out a sigh. 

'Not a good idea?' 

'I don't know. Robbe and I were friends. He doesn't know you at all. How is he going to help you?' 

Sander shrugs. 'It was just a suggestion.'

'Is there another plan.' 

'Yeah, Switzerland I believe.'

'What do you mean?'

'They have some sort of institution over there which is specialised in treating people with bipolar disorder.' 

'So they are just going to lock you up somewhere?' 

Sander let out a sigh. 

'I don't know Amber. I just want to feel better again.' 

'We both know that you won't feel any better in Switzerland. The only reason you would go there is to get away from everything.' 

'What is wrong with that?'

'Nothing is wrong with it. It is just not the Sander Driessen I know.' 

'Amber, I don't know even know who I am anymore.' 

'Maybe you can try to talk to Robbe if he wants to. You never know what happens.' 

'Can you give me his number?' 

'Why don't you go asked himself? He is upstairs.' 

Sander snorts out his drink. 'He is one of those idiots?'

'He is a six on the scale of idiots, I would say.' 

'Ratio?'

'Aaron is a 9, Moyo 10, Jens a 7 and Robbe a solid six.'

'I can live with that.' 

'You are an 8, by the way.'

Suddenly there is a lot of noise in the kitchen. 

'Amber? Where is the be- Ouch, fucking hell.' 

A sound of falling glass shattering on the ground. At the same time as the doorbell rings. 

'Can you check who is destroying my kitchen and if he needs help? Then will I open the door.' 

Sander groans put stands up. 

His heart stops with beating for a second. 

He sees the most gorgeous boy he has ever seen sitting on the ground, trying to hold the shards together. 

The artist can't breathe. 

If his colour scheme would be a person, it would be this one. 

His curly hair that looks like honey, skin colour that reminds him of limestone, even his hoodie is forest green. 

The boy looks up. 

His eyes are the colour of wood brown. 

The sun falls on his face which gives him a sandstone glow. 

It is a fucking angel straight from heaven. 


	2. Chapter one

'Hey Sander, You are Sander, right? I assume that you are Sander because who would you else be? I mean yeah I don't know actually.' 

A blush appears on the brown-haired boy's face. 

'I am sorry for this mess. I will clean it up in a second, first need to take care of this.' He holds up his hand that is bleeding. 

'What have you done?

'Just me being clumsy, nothing special.'

Sander looks at the ground which covered with glass splinters and blood.

'Can I help you?' 

The other boy shakes his head. 'No, I am sorry that I interrupted you.' 

'That is okay. You sure you don't need help?' 

The other boy licks his lips nervously. 'Could you maybe grab the glasses from the cupboard? I couldn't reach them.' 

Sander gives him a soft smile and walks to the cupboard above the other boy. 'I should have grabbed a chair or something.' 

The artist snickers softly and looks down.

A bad idea. 

The boy on the floor looks up at the same time. His head a few centimetres away from Sander's private parts. 

The brown-haired boy swallows visibly. He tries to lean back but hits his head against the oven. 

'Ouch, shit.' 

A look of pain appears on his face. 

Sander reaches his hand towards the boy. 'Here, let me help you before you end up in the hospital.' 

The other boy takes his hand and stands up. 

The artist bites his lip. The boy's hand feels so small in his own.

'How many glasses do you need?' 

'Four of them please.' 

The boy rubs the back of his head. 

'Are you okay?' 

'Yeah, just a little sore.' 

'Turn around so I can make sure it doesn't bleed or anything.' 

The boy turns around and takes a step backwards and the same time Sander steps forward. The smaller boy's back is pressed against the artist's back. 

Sander quickly grabs the boy shoulder to make sure they stay like that. 

He softly brushes through the brown curls, looking for a wound or something. 

'Hmm don't see anything.' He whispers in the neck from the other boy who shivers. 'Let me check over here.' He tugs the curls quite firmly. 

Goosebumps appear on the skin from the brown-eyed boy. 

The artist enjoys the impact he is having. 

It has been long since he felt like flirting. He came across enough pretty boys and girls but they always wanted him. So he didn't need to make an effort. He just went for a quick shag, never feeling like impressing anybody. 

Until now. 

'I think that you are all good.' 

Sander places his hand on the smaller boy's waist and turns him around. 

'Let me check that hand tough.' 

'Nah, it is fine.' 

The boy tries to pull back with red cheeks but stumbles over his own feet. 

The taller boy takes his chance to grab him firmly. 

'Don't go falling now already.' 

It is a metaphor and they both know it. 

'I am sorry.' The boy murmurs, not looking into Sander's eyes. 

'That is okay. You don't have to apologize so many times.'

'That is just a habit from him.' 

Amber is standing in the doorway. Sander closes his eyes and curses mentally. Why had she always the worst timing? It was a talent, really. 

'I am sorry for you mugs Amber, I will buy you some new ones.' 

'Not necessary, they were ugly anyway.'

She stares at Sander's hands who are still holding the other boy's waist. 

'Robbe, this is Sander, Sander that is Robbe who you are holding so firmly.' 

Robbe's cheeks turn even redder. 

Of course, that was Robbe.

Just by looking at him, Sander felt lighter, more hopeful. 

'So, you are the one?' 

'The one?' 

'The one who is going to take me out of my misery.' 

Robbe stares at him, his lips slightly parted. 

'Huh?'

'Sander shut up please.'

Amber pulls them apart. 

'Oh, Robbe' she signs when she sees the heavily bleeding hand. 

'I am sorry.' 

The girl rolls her eyes and grabs the first aid kit. 

'You have to disinfect it, okay?'

Now the smaller boy rolls his eyes. 'Wow good that you tell me that Amber! I would have never thought of that. It is not like I am studying medicine or anything.' 

Sander feels a smirk appearing on his face. So the boy can also be sassy.

'I will let you two talk for a second. I will be at the balcony.'

Robbe looks startled. 'Wait, what? Amber don't leave.' But the blond girl has already left the kitchen. 

The brown-haired boy licks his lips and keeps his head down when he tries to take care of his hand. He is shaking. 

The artist goes to stand right in front of him and takes the bandage from his hand. He makes sure to touch the small hands a few more times than strictly necessary. 'I can help you if you want. Look, so much easier this way.' 

'Yeah, thanks.' The boy still doesn't look him into his eyes. 

'So, you study medicine?' 

Robbe nods. 'First year.' 

'And you know Amber from high school?' 

The boy nods again. 

'You two are good friends right?' 

Robbe shrugs. 'I suppose so.' 

'She has told me a lot about you.' Sander is aware of the fact that is a fucking lie because she has never mentioned his name, but he wants to see the reaction of the other boy. 

The boy lifts his head and there appears a new blush on his cheek. 

'Only positive things of course. First I thought she was exaggerating but now I see you in person.' He lets out a low whistle. 

'Yeah, right.' Robbe squeezes himself out between Sander's body and the cupboard. 

'Where are you going?' 

'The boy's are probably wondering where I am.' 

'I was talking to you.' 

'Just stop.' 

Sander feels like he has been punched in the face. 

'What?' 

'I know what kind of type dude you are and just-' 

He looks down again. 'Just stop.' 

'What kind of type I am?' The artist repeats the word slowly. 

'That is kind of mean, to be honest. I didn't expect that from you.' 

'You don't know me.' 

'You are like an open book to me.' 

Robbe snorts. 'Am I?' 

'Yes, you are probably studying medicines because someone in your inner circle has an incurable disease or passed away from it. You are not very sure of yourself because you apologise a lot. Your grades are unacceptably high and you are that kid that asks the teacher for homework. Everybody loves you because you are kind, presumably too kind for your own good. People walk all over you with their problems but no one ever asks about yours. 

You are likely to be a volunteer, maybe at an institution or anything and I wouldn't be surprised if you are a virgin.' 

Robbe's cheeks turn red again. 

'You are assuming a lot of things.' 

'You started with assuming.' 

'Well, you are incorrect about a lot of things.'

'The virgin part?' 

The smaller boy glares at him. 'Not any of your business.'

'I still don't know what you mean with that type of dude.'

'You know exactly what I mean.'

Sander shakes his head. 'Please tell me and I will tell you if it is true or not.' 

'You probably had a rough childhood.' 

'Wrong, I had the most amazing childhood. Both my parents loved me very much, they still do by the way. You can try again if you would like.' 

The boy opens his mouth and closes it again. 

'You are cocky and full of yourself.' 

Sander shrugs. 'That could be true, but it depends on the day. Another one.'

'You don't give a shit about others people feelings. You only care about your own well being.' 

'I give a shit about other people's feelings but sometimes I am just too occupied to deal with my own that I forget. I feel bad about it.' 

That was cleary, not the answer the other boy was expecting. 

'You own a motor.' 

Sander snorts. 'I don't actually, would be pretty cool though. Do you have some more?' 

'You dropped out of school and now you are working in a tattoo shop or something.' 

'Wrong again, I am in my last year of graphic arts at university. You are not very good at this.' 

'Maybe you are lying.'

'Why would I be?' 

The other boy looks away. 

'Maybe you should give me a chance before you knock me off based on your untrue biases.' 

'I am sorry. I didn't realise-' His voice crumbles. 

'I am wondering about one thing though.'

'What?' 

'If you are out of the closet yet.' 

'Back with the assuming.' 

'Nah, I am sure about that one.'

Robbe turns red again. He is practically glowing now. He shifts uncomfortably on his feet. 

'I want to ask you a favour.' 

'I don't know you.' 

'Well, you can get to know me. The real me without any assumptions.'

'What do you mean?' 

'I have some problems, Robin.'

'It is Robbe.' 

'I know that.' 

The smaller boy makes a sound of annoyance. 

'I know you helped Amber with her eating disorder.' 

'How do you know about that?'

'Amber and I are close.' 

The boy looks at him investigative. 'Do you also have problems with eating?' 

'I thought we had already stated that you are not good with assumptions.' 

'Sorry.' 

'Seriously stop apologizing.'

'Sorry.' The boy looks at him with a certain twinkle in his eyes. 

'I am bipolar.'

It stays silent for a while.

'Are you, though?' 

Sander gives him a confused look.

'Yes, I am?'

'No no, that is not what I meant. Are you bipolar or do you have bipolar disorder?' 

'I don't know what you mean by that.' 

'Does it define you as a person or is it part of you?'

'I still don't understand.'

'Are you Sander with bipolar disorder or are you bipolar Sander?'

'Euh, Sander with bipolar disorder? I don't really see the difference.' 

'Being bipolar doesn't define who you are. Maybe an odd comparison but you have cancer, you are not cancer.'

'That is good to hear.' 

The younger boy rolls his eyes

'I mean that bipolar disorder is a mental illness. If your organs fail to do their job it gets a medicine. 

Your brain is an organ as well, people often forget that. Mental illness is part of you, it doesn't define you as a person.' 

Sander doesn't know what do say. 'I have never thought about it that way.' 

Robbe gives him a shy grin. 'But what is your problem and how can I help?' 

'It is difficult to talk about, to be honest.' 

'I would try to assume things, but I am not sure if that is a good idea.' 

'Robbe, where the fuck are you? You just went to get some cups? '

Aaron walks into the kitchen. 'You have met Sander!' 

'I am coming soon Aaron, give me a minute to clean this mess up.'

Aaron shake's his head. 'You are going to put yourself in the hospital one day. I will take the glasses upstairs already.' 

The smaller boy gives him a sheepish smile. 

'Can I have your number?' 

'For what?'

'I just want to talk to you about some stuff if you don't mind. I can pay you if you want?'

Robbe gives him a puzzled look

'I am not a therapist or anything. I know some good ones though.'

'I want you.' 

The words come out kind of desperate. 

'I am not really looking for a relationship, sorry, oh wait I am not sorry.'

He brabbles quickly when the other boy gives him a look. 'That just sounds wrong. I mean that I am not interested.' 

'Who said anything about a relationship?' 

The other boy cheeks turn red again. 'I thought-'

Sander snickers. 'When are you going to stop assuming things? I am just looking for someone who won't judge me.' 

'I have already judged you ten times since we met twenty minutes ago.' 

'You won't judge me for being bipolar.' 

'You don't know me.'

'As I said, you are an open book to me. I was right about you being into guys.'

Robbe rolls his eyes. 'That is not exactly a secret. About other things you were wrong though.' 

'I would love to find out which ones.'

'Is this not very random? We have just met?' 

Sander shrugs. 'I have a good feeling about you. I trust my gut most of the time.' 

'What do you expect from me?' 

'Someone who will listen with an open mind.'

'Can I ask you for a favour as well then?' 

'Anything you want.' 

'Can I use you for a case on mental illness? I have to do a school project about the influence of medication on people who have a mental illness. It is anonymous and you can always tell me if you don't want anymore.'

The younger boy bites his lip. 'I know it is kind of insensitive request.'

'I think we have a deal.' 

Robbe gives him a hopeful look. 'Really?' 

'If you give me your number.'

Sander grabs his phone and sees that he has five missed called from Britt. He rolls his eyes when other calls come in. 'I have to take this one. Please write your number down here. I will text you.'

He hands Robbe a piece of paper who quickly writes some numbers down. 

'See you soon, Robin.' 

The other boy opens his mouth but Sander has already walked out of the kitchen. 

'Yes Brit, What is your fucking problem?' 

'Don't talk to me that way.' She sounds offended. 

'I just wanted to check on you. Your mother told me you weren't feeling well. I would have come by to see you but I was ill. 

'What did you have?' 

Britt sighs. 'Some kind of stupid virus probably from my trip to Brazil. I have been taking some antibiotics for weeks now and I am feeling finally better. ' 

'Good to hear.' 

An awkward silence.

'So are you home tonight?'

She sounds kinds of suggestive. 

'Yes.' 

'Looking for some company?' 

Sander hesitates, he wanted to paint tonight. He wants to try his new paint out some more. 

'Just a nice evening with the two of us.' 

He closes his eyes. Maybe it would be a good idea. He wants to feel loved and he knows that Britt can do that for like an hour or something. 

'Are you coming to my place?'

* * *

'Are you leaving already?'

Sander lays in his bed still breathing heavily. 

Britt puts her underwear back on. 'Yes, I am meeting up with a friend.' 

'Can you lay here with me for five more minutes?' 

She rolls her eyes but crawls back underneath the blankets. 

'You are being clingy.' 

The artist just blocks her voice. He turns them around so that his head is resting on her chest, hoping she will hold him. 'Ouch Sander, your head is fucking heavy.' 

He mutters an apology before he goes back to laying on his back. 

Wrapping his arms around the blond girl, trying to get some warmth. 

She starts to brush through his bleached hair and the boy feels a little bit more at ease. 

'I am not sure if I like it, maybe brown was better although you look older now.' 

Sander squeezes his eyes together. If she only could shut up once. 

She gives him a small pet on his chest before she gets up. 

'Good to see you again.' 

She puts on her clothes, grabs her bag and leaves the room. 

The artist digs his fingernails in his hand. He is alone again. The bed feels empty without somebody else. 

He wishes that Britt would have stayed the night even if that meant listening to her gossip for two hours straight. 

He feels tired. 

It was a bad idea that let Britt come over. 

Now he felt more alone than before. 

Sander didn't love the blond girl, but he cared about her in some way. They had known each other since little kids and they had started dating when Britt had turned fifteen. 

Almost four years ago. 

Sander didn't really want to have a relationship back then. The artist had enjoyed his freedom as a teenager. Exploring his sexuality with different people. He thought that it would be better for Britt and him to be friends that sometimes had sex together. He wasn't really feeling like committing to a relationship. Britt was against that. She wanted them to be exclusive. You could say that the tables had turned drastically.

Sander decided to give it a chance. He always felt in love easily and Britt was a very attractive girl. 

After a few months of dating, they both realised that they weren't meant for each other. 

Sander wanted to break up but Britt came up with a plan. 

They wouldn't be exclusive anymore, but they would continue being in a relationship.

At first, the artist saw not the benefit until the thing with Clarissa happened. 

Clarissa was his five years older sister. She was twenty-two when she announced that she was pregnant from her boyfriend. Sander's parents had been in shock. They didn't know their daughter was dating someone. At first, they were happy for her but she needed to get married right away to the boy. 

Clarissa was against that. She didn't believe in marriage. It had been a horrible fight. His sister had said al sort of things about her parents. Exposing secrets of cheating, money and drugs then she told them that her boyfriend worked in a cafe. 

Sander had never seen his parents like that. They were out of control. 

They tried forcing his sister into getting an abortion but she refused. She had walked away. 

The name Driessen had been disrespected. 

It was an awful time. Journalisten and newspaper wouldn't shut up about it. 

No one knew the truth, so the rumours were wild. 

Six months later Clarissa came back. 

She had a miscarriage and her boyfriend had dumped her. 

Sander had never seen his sister like that. An emotional wreck. 

Their parents had accepted her back into the family if she married a man they chose for her, that way they could restore her honour.

She had agreed and now she was married to a fifteen years older man. 

The man was the owner of a certain bank. He had a lot of influence and great connections. 

His father and his brother in law had made a deal. 

The man got to marry Clarissa and his dad would become a co-owner of a company.

The artist had been shocked. He couldn't believe that is parents would do something like this but apparently, it was normal. He talked about with Senne. 

Senne was also engaged to a girl named Zoë. Sander always thought it was his own choice but it turns out that it wasn't.

Zoë's parents had gone bankrupt but their family had royal blood. 

Senne's parents saw there chance to expand their connections and raise their status. 

They offered them money in exchange for their daughter's hand in marriage. 

The poor girl had absolutely no say in it. 

Senne told him that their relationship had started difficult because of it. Zoë had been cold towards him and hated everything he did for her. 

Sander couldn't blame the girl. 

Their relationship was better now because they started to have feelings for each other but it would never become real. 

Sander felt sick when he heard the stories. Senne had named so many examples. He knew it would be a matter of time until it was his turn. 

He understood Britt now. If she dated him she would be safe and vice versa. 

Britt had never told him this but he knew that this was the reason. Their parents thought they were a good match. 

It wasn't long before Sander had figured out that was the only reason she ever wanted to date him. She wanted to please her mother. 

He couldn't help but feel betrayed. He had always thought the girl liked him for him. 

She was smart and cunning he would give her that. 

Their relationship was complicated. They were good actors in front of their parents but when it was just the two of them, there was nothing. Nothing but sex. 

Not even cuddling together or talking about their problems. No, Britt would always leave when she got whatever she wanted. 

In the beginning, Sander didn't care. He was quite happy about the situation. He could fool around with anyone he wanted but it came lonely real quick. 

He wanted a relationship. Someone would care for him and for him only. He wanted to be in love again. 

He talked about it with Britt, asking if they could try again but she laughed at him. 

Love didn't exist and he better would get that idea of love out of his head.

It felt like he had been slapped in the face. 

Sander didn't understand life anymore. 

He always thought that his purpose in life would be to find his other half. He realised that it could never happen. 

Britt was the best he was ever going to have. 

It was the first time Sander had felt the chains of being rich and famous. 

He had always loved the attention and money. 

The huge parties, the fast cars, the swimming pools, the expensive jewellery but it wasn't enough anymore. It didn't make him happy. 

He wanted somebody who could make him happy. 

The artist wanted to feel happy again. 

Everything went downhill from that point. Sander had always had a problem with mood swings but they became uncontrollable.

His parents were worried about him but they let him be until he almost died. 

During an episode, Sander had tried to fly a helicopter on his own. He was convinced that he could do it. He had never felt better like he was on top of the world. 

Senne had found him. 

The helicopter had crashed against the ceiling. 

Sander had forgotten to open the roof of the garage. 

He had been injured but he was still conscious. He had talked and talked until someone gave him a shot with a needle. 

He had woken up in the hospital feeling numb. It took two months of tests and conversations with doctors to diagnose him. 

Then the whole circus began that was almost two years ago. He tried almost everything. Medications, treatment but nothing helped him.

Sander felt like nobody understood him. There was no way out of his life. 

He would never be able to be himself. He would always have to wear a mask. 

The thought of that made him feel like he was drowning. 

He just wanted someone to understand him, who would listen without judging.

Sander put his pillow over his head and screamed until he no voice left.

If he only could stop thinking. 

* * *

He was painting Robbe he realised. The brown curls, his pale skin, eyes that looked like honey, the few freckles on his nose. 

The artist couldn't sleep so he decided to paint some more. 

He had taken his new colours and started to paint without thinking. 

His subconsciousness had taken over and he had painted the most beautiful boy Sander had ever laid his eyes on. 

The boy was as art. 

He started at the painting for a while, trying to figure out where is his feeling of comfort was coming from. 

Maybe it was the way Robbe had spoken to him today. His soft voice talking about bipolar as if it was something normal. Not something you should be ashamed of. 

Robbe had given him the impression that he knew what he was talking about. 

It gave Sander a strange feeling of hope. 

He grabbed his phone feeling an urge to text the boy. 

It was difficult to come up with something to say. 

Everything sounded cliche or boring. 

So Sander sent him a picture of the painting. 

_° I am sorry, but who is this?-_

_Why can't you stop apologising? Do you get a kick out of it or something?_

_-Sander? -_

The boy made it too easy to be teased

_No, it is your boyfriend_

_-???-_

_-I don't have a boyfriend?-_

_I can't believe you don't remember me. That really breaks my heart, Robin._

_-So you are Sander?-_

_Yes, I am Sander._

_-Why can't you just say that?_

_Maybe I wanted to know if you had a boyfriend._

_-Sanderrr.-_

_Robin._

_-Did you paint that? -_

_Yes_

_-It is beautiful-_

_Not as beautiful as the real thing_

_-I really can't tell if you are joking or not-._

_You can always ask_

_-Are you joking? -_

_Maybe._

_-You are impossible. -_

_You misspelt a smooth_

_-Can I do something for you or are just bored?-_

_I am indeed bored but you can also do something for me_

_-Tell me-_

_You can tell me when we are going to meet up_

_-I don't know your schedule-_

_I don't know yours either_

_-Next week perhaps? -_

_No_

_-Well, what do you suggest? -_

_Tomorrow? 4 pm, I will come and pick you up. Just send me your address_

His phone starts to ring, Robbe is calling him.

'Hello?' 

'Oh, it is really you.' 

Sander snorts. 'You don't have to sound so excited. Why are you calling?' 

'Just want to make sure that is you and not some creep before I send my address.'

'Why would a creep have your phone number?' 

'You know how it goes. Wouldn't be the first time I accidentally gave my number to some random dude. ' 

'How do you give your number accidentally?'

'When you are drunk.' 

'Ah, I see but is tomorrow okay?' 

'Where are we going?' 

'Surprise.' 

'Yeah, not sure if I trust that.'

'What is life without a little risk?' 

It stays silent on the other side. 

'I will text you my address.' 

'Good evening Robin.' 

Sander hangs up before the other boy can complain. 

The gap in his chest feels smaller. 

He can't explain how but he feels lighter. 

Maybe there was someone who could understand him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


	3. Chapter two

It was not what Sander had expected. He couldn't tell what he had been expecting, just not this. 

It didn't fit him. 

Robbe was not the type of boy who lived in a dorm and especially a dorm looking like this. 

A hovel looked even better. Sander knew he was prejudiced.   
He had never lived in a house that didn't have at least five bathrooms but this was the extreme opposite. 

It looked like it could fall apart at any second. It smelled like vomit, beer and weed.   
The garden was filled with empty beer bottles.   
Sander could even see used condoms. 

It was a lovely place really. 

He leaned back against his car, trying to ignore the stares of people who walked by him. 

He couldn't fit less in if he tried.   
The artist decided to light a joined. Maybe it would stop the people from staring.   
He checked his phone. Fifteen minutes until four o'clock.   
Sander liked being on time. It would give some time to prepare for whatever he was going to do. 

'You are early.' 

Robb walks out of the door whose paint is completely flaking off.   
'Nice car.'  
'Nice place.'   
The smaller boy snorts.   
'Where are we going?' 

'Somewhere nicer than this.'  
'Well, my bar is quite low then.' 

'Get in the car, Robin.'   
'Where are you getting a car like that from? You study art for fuck sake.' 

'I can't believe you remembered that.'   
Robbe gives him a confused look.   
'You told me that yesterday?'  
'Maybe my bar is also quite low.' 

'You are avoiding my question.'   
'I bought the car.' 

The younger boy stare lingers on the joint. 'You deal drugs, don't you?'  
'When are you going to stop assuming things?'   
'Well, you don't tell me anything so what else am I supposed to do?'

Sander puts out his joint and throws in the garden.   
Robbe glares at him. 'What? It is already a rubbish dump.'  
'Doesn't mean you should at to it. You could be the change you know.' 

The artist rolls his eyes and opens the passenger door. 'Why don't you get in?'   
The boy looks at him suspiciously once again but gets in.   
They sit in silence for a while. Robbe keeps glaring towards him.  
'Just to let you know, I told someone that I was meeting up with you.'  
'Okay and?'  
'So you can't kill me.' 

Sander snorts. 'Damn it, I have to come up with a new plan.'   
'I am sure you are a spontaneous person. What is this music anyway? '

'Ho stop, excuse me?' 

Robbe blinks confused. 'Huh, what? Is this something I should know?'

'Damn right you should. It is the legend himself, David Bowie.' 

'Oh, that one.' The younger boy doesn't sound convincing.   
'You have no idea do you?' 

'Yes, I do.'   
'What does he look like then?'  
'What does he look like? Euh male?' 

'Correct.'   
'Sunglasses?'   
Robbe gives him a hopeful look. 

'That is Elton John.' 

'A moustache with striking teeth?'   
'Freddie Mercury, lead singer of Queen.'   
'The Queen has her own singers?' 

'Please tell me you are joking.'  
The younger boy doesn't look him into his eyes.  
'Yeah, of course. I know all that stuff.'   
'No, you don't.'

Sander let his hand rest on the thigh of the other boy and gives a soft pat. 'Don't worry about it. I will just have to teach you.'

'Are you a musician? No, you can't be. Amber would never shut if she knew someone famous.' 

The artist snorts. 

Robbe gives him an annoyed glare.   
'Are you now going to tell me where we are going? We have been driving for way too long.'   
'Not even half an hour.'   
'I don't trust you. We are going towards the dunes and beach that is a perfect place to kill someone.'

'Why would I want to kill you?'  
'What else are you going to do?'   
'The only reason for a guy to pick you up is to kill you? Damn boy, I am not surprised that you are a virgin.' 

The brown-eyed boy let out a sigh and narrows his eyes. 'Usually, the guys are a lot more specific about their intentions. They don't beat around the bush.' 

'I already told you I wanted to talk to you.'   
'Why can't that happen at your place or mine?'  
'There is no way I ever going to enter your house.'   
'We will see about that.' 

Sander licks his lips and lets his hand slight up a little further.   
'Is that an invitation?'

A small hand takes his hand and brings back to the wheel. 'You should drive with two hands. You don't want to know how many accidents happen because people drive with one hand. It is very easy to lose control and you should put one your seatbelt.'

'Such a good boy.'

Robbe's cheeks turn red.   
'Common sense really. I have already done an internship at the first aid and believe me it is not pretty.' 

'I thought this was your first year?'

'Summer programme. I got selected.'   
'How old are you?   
'Seven- no eighteen.' The voice of the other boy sounds of.

'Are you?' Sander smirks. 'You don't have to lie about your age to me.'  
'I am not lying.' Now he sounds offended. 'It was my birthday last week so I still need to get used to it.'

'Then I should buy a birthday present. '  
The boy's cheeks are turning red again. 'Not necessary. You can just tell me where we are going.' 

'That would be shit present, Robbin. It would ruin the surprise.'

The smaller boy rolls his eyes and crosses his arms over his chest. 

They sit in silence for a while.   
Sander can't help but stare at the younger boy side profile.   
He has a strong jaw and a straight nose. He is really pretty. It doesn't escape the artist notices that he bites his lips a lot and plays with hands. Would he do that because he is nervous or does he that always? What would it feel like if he bit-'

'I like this song. What is it called?'  
Robbe interrupts his thoughts.  
'I thought you knew your stuff.' 

'Sanderrr.'   
There is something about the way the younger boy says his name. No one does it like him. Maybe he should ask if he can record it. Could be nice to listen to on a lonely evening. 

'It is called Rebel Rebel from David Bowie.'   
'Ah, David Bowie.'  
'You have still no clue, do you?  
'Space cowboy?' 

This boy is unbelievable.   
'Space cowboy now you are getting somewhere.'  
Robbe lets out a content sigh. 'Told you I know my stuff.' 

'I am sure about it. You mean Space Oddity. Space cowboy, you are a creative person that for sure.' 

The other boy's cheeks turn other shade of red.   
'Yeah maybe.' 

There falls an awkward silence.   
'So how was your day today?'   
Sander looks the brown-haired boy. 'What?'   
'Did you do something fun or did you have class-'  
The voice of the smaller boy crumbles when the artist stares at him.   
'Why are you asking me that?'   
'Just trying to make a conversation, didn't realize you were going to be mad.'   
'No, I am not mad. Euhh, I went to class this morning.'   
'What kind of class?' 

Sander gives him a soft smile. 'You don't have to pretend to care.'  
'Pretend? I am just curious about what you learn as an art student? How to mix colours? Do you need to match paintings to the painters? Or are you just drawing all day?' 

The artist snorts. 'What are you learning as a medical student? How to cut dead bodies?'

'Why are you avoiding the question?'

Sander stays silent for a second. Why was he avoiding the question? He loved talking about art. Deep down he knows the answers. He is afraid that Robbe doesn't care. Just like his parents and financé who will always tell him to shut up when he starts ranting. 

'I always get a bit carried away. I am very passionate about art.'   
'What is wrong with that?'   
The older boy shrugs. 'I am aware of the fact that not everyone enjoys art as I do.'   
'That doesn't mean you are not allowed to talk about, especially because I asked. It is attractive to be passionate about something and not try to hide it.' 

'Attractive?' Sander raises his eyebrow. 'You think I am attractive?'   
'That is not what I said.'   
'That is what I heard. You find me attractive.'   
'Sander that is not how it works.'  
'Says who?' 

Robbe rolls his eyes. 'You are impossible to have a normal conversation with.'   
'Don't worry Robin, I think you are attractive as well.' 

The boy chokes on his own spit.   
'We are here.' 

Sander drives into a parking lot. 

'Where are we?'   
'Can't you just wait for three seconds?'  
'1, 2, 3, where are we?'   
'And you say I am impossible.' 

Sander gets out of the car. 'Kom.'   
He walks towards a small almost invincible pad.   
  
Robbe stays right where is. 'Where are we going?'  
'It is a surprise, come on.'  
'I don't know Sander. It feels like the beginning of a horror movie and I am the idiot who makes all the stupid mistakes.' 

The artist spits between his two fingers. 'I swear I am not going to try to kill you.'   
'And other stuff?'   
'Other stuff?'   
'You know what I mean.'   
'Not going to do anything.’ 

_Unless you ask me for it_. He gives Robbe an angelic look. 

Robbe gives him a suspicious look but starts to walk towards Sander.   
'Is it far away?' 

'Ten-minutes if we walk briskly. 

The older boy starts to make his way down the narrow steep path which is covered in plants and tree roots, quickly glance over his shoulder to see if the other boy is still following him.   
They are not even two minutes walking until he hears a loud crash.   
He turns around only to see the smaller boy laying on the ground. 

'Ouch, fuck that hurts.'   
'Have you ever had a day where you didn't injure yourself?   
Robbe gives him an embarrassed smile and crawls back onto his feet. 

Sander holds his hand out. 'Take this before you fall again.'   
'That is not necessary. I will watch my feet better and then I will be okay.'   
he says optimistic while he stumbles again. 'Yeah maybe not.'

The older boy grabs his hand. 'Kom, let's go.' 

Sander takes a deep breath. His heart is racing for some stupid reasons. The hand of the younger boy feels so warm in his hand. It gives him butterflies in his stomach. He bites his lip. It has been long since he had that feeling.   
He peeks over his shoulder.   
Robbe is looking at the ground while he clenches Sander's hand trying not to fall again. 

Fuck he is adorable. 

They keep holding hands until they reach a cottage.   
'What is this place?'   
Sander grabs the key from his pocket. 'My special place.'

'Do you live here?'   
The artist snorts. 'Do I look like a person who lives in the middle of nowhere?'   
Robbe shrugs. 'I have given up to figure you out on my own.'

'This is my safe place. I come here to paint and just to get away from everything.'  
'Did you found it?'  
'Yeah a few years ago. It was completely run-down but I renovated it with some friends as an art project.'   
'It is beautiful.' 

'Thanks, do you want anything to drink?' A beer perhaps?'   
'Yes, would be nice.'   
Sander opens his fridge and hands the other boy a bottle.  
'What kind of brand beer is this? I have never seen it before.'

'Just something that my uncle makes in his free time not a brand or anything.'   
Sander bites his lip. Technically it is not a lie.   
'We can sit on the balcony if you like?'

'This place is kind of fancy.' 

Robbe traces with his fingertips the mural on the wall. 'Did you paint the walls?'   
'I sprayed them.'   
'That is the same right?' 

The artist snickers. 'No, not really, I can show you sometimes if you want.'  
'I am not an artistic person but sure.'   
The younger boy takes place next to him on the couch. The setting sun makes it look like he is glowing again. Damn, that boy is beautiful.

He really does look like an angel. 

'It is a nice view.'  
Sander bites his tongue not to comment.   
'It is cool that you can see the beach.'   
'Yeah, it is nice. You don't hear the people but you can hear the sea. It is the perfect place for me.' 

'You don't like people?'   
'Nah, not that is not it. I like being around people most of the times but sometimes everything just gets too loud. '

'I can relate to that. At certain moments you need to be alone.' 

'Sometimes everything is too loud even when I am alone.'   
The artist looks at the other boy, the moment of truth. 

'Do you mean voices in your head?'   
His tone is neutral. 

'I don't know. It feels like my brain is screaming. It is not like voices telling me to do stuff more like telling me the things I don't want to hear.'

'Insecurities?'  
'The truth.' 

'Are you afraid of the truth?'   
'I don't want to face it.'   
'Do you want to tell me what the truth is?' 

Sander closes his eyes. How is this boy even real? Why hasn’t he laughed at Sander yet? 

'It is difficult to explain.' 

'Does it have to do with your capabilities for example or is it more abstract?' 

'I don't know.'

'Do you not want to face your lack of capabilities?'   
'Possibilities.'  
'What is limiting you?'   
'My life.' 

Robbe takes a sip from his bottle. 'You don't like talking about this do you?'   
Sander shakes his head. 'It is all way too confusing. I don't get myself anymore.'

'Have you ever tried to make a list?'   
'A list of what?'  
'Things you do understand or get.' 

'I don't understand anything.' 

'Do you understand what bipolar disorder is?'   
'Yes.'   
'Explain it to me in your own words.'

'I get highs and lows.'   
Robbe raises his eyebrows. 'And?'  
'I think that covers it pretty well.'   
'I like to disagree.' 

'Well since you know it better you can tell me.'   
Sander doesn't like this. It rubs him the wrong way. 

'I don't want to offend you.'   
The artist takes a sip of his beer.   
'Can we talk about something else?' 

'I want to say one more thing about it if that is okay.'   
Sander gives him a short nod. 

'Every single person has highs and lows. You have them much more intense and less stable which is difficult but you don't have to feel ashamed about it. There is also a good side to it. ' 

'Well, I still need to find that then. '

'Someone once told me it being bipolar was a blessing and a curse at the same time.'

'How on earth it is a blessing?' 

'Your passion for art goes pretty deep doesn't it?'  
'I still see no blessing.' 

'Yeah maybe is it a bad comparison. I am sorry. I just say what is on my mind. I hope it doesn't offend you or that you think I say stupid stuff. It is not like I have a degree or something.' 

Sander shakes his head. 'I don't mind to talk about it with you. I just get easily defensive.' 

'You can decide on the boundaries. It is your thoughts we are discussing.' 

'I am just scared.'   
'Scared of what.'   
'Love.'   
'That you are never going to find someone who will love you?'

Sander looks up so quickly that he almost gets a whiplash. This must be a sign from the fucking universe.   
Robbe gives him a sad smile. 'Forget that I said that.'   
'No, I just never met somebody who also thought that.'

'I know what you mean. Everybody is talking about being young and that you have time but how many marriages fail in the end?'

'Or are fake.' 

'Fake?'   
'Forget that I said that.'   
'Do you mean gay marriage?'

The artist stares confused at the other boy.   
'No? I meant marriage where people marry for connections and money. Why are you saying gay marriage?' 

Robbe's cheeks turn red again. 'Sometimes you just hear people say that marriage is for a man and woman.'

'That is bullshit.'  
'I wish everyone thought about it that way.'   
'Marriage should be for people in love.' 

'Why are you scared to never find someone you love?'   
'I could also ask you that question. '  
'Well, I asked it first.' Robbe gives him a cheeky smile.   
'I will only tell you if you tell me.'   
'Deal.' 

Sander takes a deep breath. 'I have certain chains in my life that take away the freedom of loving who I want. I get a lot of things back for it in return but lately, it isn't enough anymore. It feels like I don't know how to be happy anymore.   
I am losing myself every single day a bit more. It feels like spiralling.   
My life is becoming boring and repetitive and that is okay but not this way. Not without someone, I can share it with.   
All I want is someone who truly cares about me. Who loves me with all my flaws.' 

The last sentence is barely a whisper.   
'How tight are the chains? Do you feel like you could break free?’'  
'That is what she asked last night. 

Robbe rolls his eyes. 'We are having a serious conversation.'   
'I suppose I could get out but then I lose everything. I am sure if it is worth the risk. I have to find the one first.' 

'The one?'  
'The one who will love me.' 

It stays silent for a while.   
'What about you?' 

Robbe plays a little bit with his empty bottle.   
'Something different.' 

'You can tell me.' 

'It is stupid.'  
'You promised Robin. I won't judge you.'

'I just want somebody who wants me for me as a person.'  
'That is normal right?'  
'Not if you are gay.'   
'What do you mean?'

'No one wants to be with me.'   
'I can't imagine that. You are beautiful.' 

Robbe looks down.   
'They all just want a quick shag. Emptying their balls and then they go back to their girlfriends. I fall for it single every time.' 

'What do you fall for?'  
'Their empty promises. That they are going to break up with their girlfriends, that they love me. I just get played.' 

'Where are you looking for guys?'  
'Fucking everywhere. Dating apps, clubs, mutual friends. '

'I can't believe someone would to that to you.'   
'Why get out of the closet if you can stay in? It is much easier that way.'  
'Don't stay stuff like that. You should embrace who you are. There is nothing wrong with being gay.'  
'Nothing is wrong with it. It just makes things harder.' 

'But it is worth it right?'   
Robbe looks him into his eyes and Sander's heart stop for a second.  
'For the right guy, it is.' 

Sander wants to kiss him. He really wants to but he shouldn't. Or should he?   
Is he imagining things or is Robbe leaning in?   
Sander turns his head to get closer towards the other boy.   
No, Robbe is definitely leaning.   
The artist closes his eyes. He can feel the warm breath of the smaller boy tickling his lips. 

Suddenly Robbe's phone rings.  
The younger boy pulls back.  
So close yet so far. Sander squeezes his eyes and sighs. 

Robbe types something on his phone before he puts it away again. 'Sorry.'  
'It is okay.' 

Sander's stomach begins the rumble. 'Do you want anything to eat?'   
'I am not sure if you can be trusted in the kitchen.' 

The artist lets out a sigh. 'When are you going to stop assuming things? I am an excellent cook.'   
'I will decide for myself.' 

Robbe gives him a smirk.  
'Get ready to be mind blown.' 

* * *

'Get lost with your fancy "croque", that is a normal sandwich.'   
'No, it is not. There is a huge difference between croques and sandwiches.'   
'Tell me.'   
'You would if you were a connoisseur.'  
'What the fuck does that even mean?' 

'Here.' Sander brings the croque towards Robbe's mouth. 'Try it for yourself.'   
The younger boy makes sure that there is eye contact before he takes a bite.   
The artist gives him a soft smile. This boy was going to be the death of him. 'Good?' 

Robbe licks his lip before he takes another bite. 'It is eatable.'  
Sander gives a friendly push.   
'I am kidding it is pretty good.'  
'Told you I was a master chef.' 

'You can make one thing that doesn't make you a master chef.'  
'I will cook a full seven-course menu for you the next time.'  
'Seven-course! You are mad. I am already happy if there is a next time.' 

Robbe doesn't look him into his eyes.  
'The question is when not if.'   
A shy grin appears on the brown-haired boys face. 

'How do you know Amber actually? I asked her but she didn't give me an answer.'

'Wait.' Sander turns the volume of the speaker up.   
'Your lessons are starting right now.' 

'Lessons? What do you mean?'  
'Your music lessons duh and I would pay attention if I were you. You will get a test.'

'What happens if I fail?'

Robbe is sitting on the kitchen counter with a soft but challenging smile on his face. His legs dangling. His hair is messy because he just ran his hand through it. His head moving along to the beat of the song  
'Sander?'   
'I am sorry you made me forget.'  
'I didn't do anything?'   
'Yes, you did, you were being adorable.'

The younger boy's cheeks turn red again.   
'But if you fail Robin Ijzermans, I am sure you and I can make an arrangement.'  
Sander goes standing between his legs.   
'But I am sure you are a good student, aren't you?'

'You are impossible.'   
Robbe hops from the kitchen counter. 'Can I have another croque?'  
'No.'  
'Sander.'  
'You have to ask.'  
'I just did!'  
'Then you have to ask again.' 

'Sander, can I have another croque?'  
'What is the magic word.'  
The younger boy lets out a sigh.   
'Please?'  
'Please what?' 

'Fuck you.' Robbe takes a croque out of the pan. 

'Did you just say please fuck me?'  
'No, I said please fuck you.'  
'So you said please fuck me.' 

'Sander, that is dad humour.'

The artist gives him a teasing look. 'I don't what kind of jokes you make with your dad but it doesn't sound good if you ask me.' 

Sander doesn't get the reaction that he expects.   
He expected a snort or some rolling eyes, not that the boy would drop his head.  
'Stupid joke, let's move on. Do you want another beer?'

'Yeah, you can tell your uncle that it is a pretty good beer.'   
The artist snorts.   
_It is not like it is a special kind from Japan that cost 300 euros._

'Good to hear.'

They walk back towards the balcony.   
Robbe stands by the railing staring at the sky.  
'Do you ever wonder if we are alone?' 

'What do you mean?'  
'The only humans in the universe?'   
'Are you asking me if I believe in aliens?'   
Robbe rolls his eyes.   
'No, I mean like if there are any other universes.'

Sander takes a sip of his beer.   
'I don't like to think about that stuff.'  
'Why not?'  
'It makes me feel lonely. Like my life doesn't matter anyway.'  
'I think it is pretty cool.'  
'That I feel lonely? Wow, thanks for that.' 

The younger boy lets out a soft giggle.   
It sounds heavenly if you ask Sander. 

'It gives me comfort to think that there are other Robbe's. When I am sad I can rely on the thought that I must be happy somewhere else. If I want something that I can't have, I know that I probably have it somewhere else. It makes me feel like I am never alone. 

'I refuse to believe that you are only eighteen. You are talking like a wise old man.' 

Robbe smiles at him.   
'You have never thought about that?'  
'Of course, I have but I don't like it.'   
'I can see where you are coming from. It also makes everything kind of pointless. Like I could jump off a bridge tomorrow and no one will care.' 

Sander feels attacked for some reason.   
'That is horrible. You can never say anything like that ever again.' 

'Sorry, it was a bad example.' 

The artist opens another beer. 'But you are right you know. What does it all matter?'

'I think everyone has a purpose in life.'  
'And that is?'  
'I believe it is personal. Different for everybody.'   
'To make life a little bit more easier.' 

Robbe snorts. 'What do you think then?'  
'I think you are in charge of your own life.''  
'Oh because that is so much easier.' 

Sander smiles. He feels at ease with this boy.   
The tone of their conversations is serious but not formal. He can be himself. Robbe doesn't judge him.   
Maybe there is someone in this world who understands him. 

* * *

They have been talking the entire evening and it is now completely dark outside.   
Sander notice goosebumps on the other boy skin. 'Are you cold?'   
'No, I am fine.' Robbe gives him a not so convincing smile.   
'You are a terrible liar.'  
'If you only knew with what I have gotten away with.'   
  
The artist raises his eyebrows but decides to keep his smart-ass comment for himself.   
'Do you want me to get some blankets?'

Robbe shakes his head. 'It is getting late, I probably should go.'   
'Let's go then, I will drive you.' 

'You can't bring me home.'   
'What why not?'  
'You have drunken five beers! That is illegal and dangerous.'  
'I can still drive, I am not drunk.'

'Absolutely not.'

'So you are going to walk home?'   
'Yeah might ask if a friend can pick me up if I make it down the path alive.' 

'Or you could stay and spent the night with me?'  
The other boy is hesitating.   
'It is Friday, you don't have classes tomorrow.' 

'I don't know Sander.'   
'You have also drunken five beers. You shouldn't go out alone. Plus there is no way an ambulance can come over here so if you trip and break your leg then I still have to drive to bring you to the hospital.'

'Okay.'  
'Okay.' Sander repeats with a grin on his face. 

'Just sleeping right?'   
'I also wanted to offer you breakfast on bed but don't feel obligated.' 

Robbe rolls his eyes. 'It is legaal to sleep here right?'   
'I don't know is it?'

'Sander, I am serious.'  
'Yes it is legaal, cutie.'

The pet name just slips out.  
A blush appears on the younger boy. 

'I am not sure if I have an extra toothbrush tough.'  
'I will use yours instead.'   
Sander chuckles, this boy. 

'So do you want me to sleep on the couch?'   
'It is your place. I should sleep on the couch.'  
'You are the guest, you sleep in the bed.'   
'Then you can join me.'

'Sure?'

'Jesus Sander I am not a prude.'  
'But you are a virgin. I don't want to intimidate you.'  
The artist takes his shirt off. 

The younger boy takes a quick glare before he tilts his head. 'I still can't believe you think that.'   
'Are you going to sleep in your own clothes? You can borrow some of mine if I have any spare here.'

'Nah it is good. Do you want to sleep on a particular side?'  
'No?'   
'You never know. I once met a guy who only could sleep on the right side.'   
'You come across weird persons than.'

Sander takes off his pant and dives into the bed.   
He pretends to be busy with his phone while Robbe gets undressed.   
Turns out that the smaller boy is quite muscular underneath his big shirts.   
He is fucking ripped. 

A soft smile appears on the face of the artist when Robbe joins the bed. He doesn't have to spend the night alone.   
The brown-haired boy turns off the lightswitch.   
'Goodnight Sander.'  
'Goodnight Robin, I hope you have sweet dreams. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the kudo's and comments!


	4. Chapter three

It takes Sander a few moments before he realises where he is. 

He is not in his own room because it is always dark there. Here is the sun fucking blinding him. 

He is also not alone. 

Someone is breathing peacefully next to him. 

A beautiful boy with brown curls is lying on the pillow next to him. The blanket pushed down exposing his muscular chest. His lips slightly party which causes a confused expression on his face. 

It is adorable. 

Sander tries to fight the urge to touch him. 

To run his fingers through the thick hair, to trace the upper lip, to kiss the collarbone. 

No, he was going to take it slow with the boy. Robbe was special but Sander had noticed that the boy also needed time to feel completely comfortable which is understandable. They only met two days ago.

The artist knew that people would think that he was crazy but he knew he was in love. 

Sander just knew that Robbe was the one. 

The way the boy was laying in his bed looking like an angel. 

The brown-haired boy and he were meant to be.

Robbe was light and gave hope. 

What could Sander possibly want more?

He pushed the thoughts away about how they never truly could be together. 

No, that would be a problem for later. 

First, he had to make sure that Robbe would fall for him the same the older boy had done for him. 

Sander was convinced that they could conquer everything as soon as they were together. As a couple. 

He ignored the pain in his stomach when he thought about telling the younger boy who he really was. It was a problem for later. 

Now he was going to savour his bubble and enjoying it while it lasted. 

He hadn't told Robbe any big lies yet, just beating around the bush.

The brown-haired boy wasn't stupid, he must suspect something. 

There is no way that a normal adolescent would drive a car worth 500k or wore a jumper that cost 300 euro. 

Sander didn't even want to get started on his jewellery. 

The artist was were of the fact that he was richer than the average person, mainly because of Amber. 

The artist wondered sometimes what his life would have been without Amber. 

Amber was, apart from the huge amount of money she got every month, a normal teenager. 

Especially when she still lived with her mother. Her mother would get all the money and even his sister had never said anything about it, Sander just knew it wasn't spent on her but narcotics instead. 

He had seen her going to a normal school with kids whose parent made 30k in a whole year. It had grounded her a lot. 

Sander, on the other hand, was homeschooled until he turned eleven then he went to a private school where he already knew almost everybody on there because all their parents were connected some way. 

He remembered that a kid got bullied once because his parents had won the lottery. The kid didn't fit in and had dropped out of the school. 

Most of the people at his old high school were idiots. They only cared about money and status. They bribed the teacher with money (or something else) for good grades. It was all a fucking joke. 

There were some good people there like Senne but they were in the minority.

Sander was happy when he finally graduated than he could do something he genuinely wanted. Art. 

His parents encouraged him to do art. The artist remembers feeling surprised about that. He had thought that his parents wanted him to study economics or something. 

Now he understood it. 

Having an artist in the family would be good for their status. 

There were already enough businessmen on the market and Sander could run his father's company without having any sense about economics. No, an artist was something that not everyone could be. You needed talent for it. 

Sander doesn't like to think of himself as a talented person. It sounds like he is a fucking brat. 

Art was a way of expressing himself. He didn't really want to sell his paintings or sketches but his mother had arranged his own gallery when he was eighteen. 

Almost everything got sold. 

Sander was still mad about it. He had given no permission and it was some of his first-ever work. He had bought some of it back out of protest. 

The artist had been shocked when he heard the prices. The small sketch of Britt's face had cost him almost 40k. 

The person from who he bought it back from didn't give a shit. The lady had just bought so she could be in good grace with his parents. 

After that incident, Sander made sure that he was the one in charge of selling his work. 

Art was not about money for Sander. He knew he could talk easily with a lot of money in his bank accounts but art was about passion for the bleached blond boy. 

Money wasn't his motivation. He painted because he needed to get rid of certain emotions. 

He wasn't comfortable with the thought that people would have his dark thoughts hanging in the living room. 

So now and then he would sell some artwork of his choice to keep his parents happy. 

A soft sound interrupts Sander from his thoughts. 

The boy next to him rolls on his back and makes a noise that sounds awfully like purring. 

The artist feels a smile creeping up his face and decides to get out of the bed. 

He had promised the boy breakfast on the bed, hadn't he? 

Maybe he should ask Michelle if she could arrange that some of his stuff was brought here. He didn't feel like wearing his jeans the whole day and

Sander had a feeling that he would be spending some more time than usual here. 

What should he make for breakfast? 

Normally he would make croques but he made that last night already. 

Sander bites his lip. He doesn't have the ingredients to make something else. 

How long would it take for Robbe to wake up? If he was quick he could get some fresh croissants or something. 

_Stay right where you are. I will be back soon😘_

The artist grabbed his keys and rushed out of the door. 

'Goodmorning.' 

The brown-haired boy was awake when Sander returns. He was sitting against the headboard of the bed, checking his phone. 

'I have some croissant, cinnamon rolls, yoghurt with fruit and french toast. What do you want?' 

Robbe gives him a confused look. 

'You are kidding?'

Sander shakes his head. 

'Euh, some croissant is good.' 

The older boy takes off his shoes and jumps back into the bed. 

'Slept well?' 

The other boy gives him a soft nod and takes a bite from his croissant. 

'It is good.'

'Tasty?'

'Very tasty.' 

'Here, you have to try the cinnamon roll.' 

Sander brings towards the younger boy's mouth daring him to eat it out of his hand again and he fucking does it. 

A smile appears on the artist's face. He is now sure completely his interest isn't one-sided. 

Suddenly an alarm on Sander's phone goes off. Time for his medicines. 

He grabs his bag to get his medicine box. He tries to swallow down several pills as quickly as he can. 

'Shouldn't you drink water with that?'

Sander shrugs. 'I will do it in a minute.' 

Robbe opens his mouth but closes it again. He gets a hesitant expression on his face. 

'Something wrong?' 

The other boy shakes his head and takes another bite from his croissant. 

Sander glares at him until he remembers about Robbe's school project.

He almost had forgotten that.

'Do you want to know what kind of medicine's I take?' 

'It feels weird to ask. I am not your doctor or something.'

The artist grabs his bag again and hands his medicine passport over. 

'Here you can copy it because I need it back for if some reasons. The doctors told me that.'

'That's for when you get to the first aid. Some anaesthetics can be dangerous mixed with medicines. Thanks by the way.' 

Robbe studies the piece of paper before he hands it back. 

'You don't need to write it down?'

'Nah, I will remember it. You don't take any extraordinary things, well high dosage.'

Sander shrugs. 'I don't know. I just take whatever they give me.'

'You have never done some research?' 

'I am always scared to read the side effects might start to image things.' 

'Yeah, that is also a point of view.' He takes another small bite from his croissant. 

'Do you feel like they help you?' 

'They must do, right? Otherwise, they wouldn't give me them.' 

'If it only were so easy. Since I was fifteen I have been volunteering at a mental health institution. Sometimes people would get worse from medication and sometimes it didn't work.

Every single body handles medication differently. The brain is a sensitive organ whereby not everything makes sense. What works for the other can be catastrophic for another.'

The tone of the brown-haired boy is kind of salty. 

'You are not a fan of it, are you?'

'I feel like sometimes they just drug people up because they don't know what else to do. Science wants patrons and something that works for everybody. A lot of doctors don't seem to understand that we cannot apply one single measure for everything.'

'So you are against medicines?' 

Robbe shakes his head. 

'No, not when they work for people. I am against medicines when they are used to shut people up because they deviate too much from 'normal people' if you understand what I mean by that.' 

The younger boy sounds actually mad now. 

'Personal experiences?'

He gives a soft nod and takes a deep breath. 

'My mother was hospitalized three years ago. She has schizophrenia. The doctors gave her medication that only made it worse. At first, they didn't want to acknowledge it, but when she became a threat to herself and others they had to. The doctors told me that she needed to live an institution for the rest of her life. Drugged up so that she wouldn't do anything dangerous. It wasn't until they stopped with the medication last year that she got better. Of course, you can't say for sure but yeah.' 

'Is that why you study medicine?' 

Robbe gives a soft nod. 'Doctors should look further than the standard.' 

'So I was right about that one?' 

'Huh?'

'I told you were studying medicines because of someone in your inner circle but that doesn't matter right now. How is your mother doing?' 

'She lives by herself now. I go visiting her at the weekends.' 

'And a father?' 

The younger boy shakes his head. 'Long story.'

'I have the time.' 

'But I don't, I have to be at my mama's place in like an hour or something.'

'You are leaving already?' 

Robbe gives him a sad smile. 'Sorry.' 

'I can bring you to your mother if you want?' 

'Nah, that is okay. I will take the bus. I have already looked it up.' 

The other boy waves with his phone.

'Why can't I just drive you?'

'You probably have something better to do. It is all the way across town.' 

'I don't have anything better to do so I am driving you.' 

Robbe lets out a sigh and rolls his eyes. 'Nobody says ever no to you, do they?' 

* * *

'We are closed, oh it is you.' 

A girl with short bangs is standing behind the counter. 

'You are back already? Something not right?' 

Sander takes off his sunglasses and leans on the counter. 

'I want another one.' 

The girl with a striking piercing in her nose smiles at him. 

'Told you they were addictive.'

'Do you have time now?' 

'I will make time if you pay me well again. What do you want?' 

'That one you send me a few days ago. The butterfly.'

'Ah, that is a pretty one. Any reasons why?' 

'I like butterflies.'

Noor shakes her head. 'The multimiljonair Sander Driessen likes butterflies.'

'What is wrong with that?'

'Nothing is wrong with it, it just doesn't fit you.' 

'What would fit me then?' 

The girl looks at him questionably. 'Maybe a wolf or the face of a pretty girl, perhaps a rose?'

'I don't want the face of a pretty girl on my body when I am sixty and I am not a fan of wolves.'

'What about a rose.' 

'Cliché.'

'Perfect for you then.' 

Sander gives her a friendly push. 'I like butterflies because of their symbolic meaning.' 

'And that is?'

'Transformation, rebirth, lightness, playful, the circle of life. You can name it.' 

Noor looks through some papers for the design. 

'And you are going to a transformation right now?'

'Maybe, I am not sure.' 

'Okay, you are impossible to follow. Where do you want it?' 

'What is the classic place?' 

'For females above the elbow or ankle. I don't know any males who have one except Harry Styles. He has one on his stomach, it is pretty damn cool if you ask me. '

'Having a matching tattoo with Harry Styles. A dream comes true.' 

The girl slaps his head playfully with some paper. 'I don't want any smart remarks in my studio unless they come from me.'

Sander rolls his eyes. 'I think I also want it above my elbow.'

'Well, what are we waiting for then?'

* * *

'It looks good, thank you Noor.' 

'I would say it was on the house to thank you for all your designs but since you don't give a shit about money.'

Noor sends him a wink. 

'I will gladly pay you.' 

'Wait here, I am going to get the aftercare and shit.'

Sander checks his phone to see if Robbe has already texted him back. 

_What are you doing today after you visited your mother?_

_-Hanging with the boys. What about you?'-_

_I am not sure yet. How was your mother doing?_

_-She was feeling well and she loved the cinnamon rolls! I needed to thank you for that by the way.-_

_No problem, good to hear that she is feeling well._

_-Yeah, what did you end up doing?'_

_Sander takes a picture of his arm._

_-Is that a tattoo?!?!'_

_No, it is a sticker_

_-Sander.-_

_Robin._

_-I like it. It is pretty.'-_

'Who are you texting to smile like that? A car dealer?'

Noor walks towards him and hands him a bottle of beer. 

'So this is aftercare? I didn't get that last time.' 

'Because you were being a weirdo. I thought you were on drugs or something turns out you were just nervous.'

Sander scoffed at her. 

'I was not nervous. I just didn't know what to expect.'

'Whatever helps you sleep at night. Who were you texting?'

'None of your business.'

'Was it that pretty chick of yours? What was her name again?'

'Britt and no it is not her.'

'Cheating, nice.'

'I am not cheating. Were are not in a real relationship.'

'Do I even want to know?' 

Sander lets out a sigh. 'Probably not.' 

"A golden cage that's where you live."

'You can tell me all about it.' 

Sander met Noor a year ago. They were both spray painting and she saved him from the cops. 

The artist had seen the girl again standing in her tattoo shop when he passed by. He never had the chance to thank her so he decided that it would be good to do. 

They had a bond immediately. They both had a passion for art and liked to think of themself as misfits. 

'Do you have plans tonight?'

'Might go to bed earlier. I am still hungover from yesterday.'

Sander snorts. 'What did you do?' 

'I can't even remember, it was some good shit though.' 

'Do you have any idea of there are people spraying tonight?'

Noor shakes her head. 'I don't think so. Why are you asking? I thought you didn't really do that anymore?' 

The artist shrugs. 'I am bored.'

'Why don't you ask one of your posh friends to hang out?'

'Maybe.' 

'Well, I am going to close the shop now for real if you don't mind.'

Sander lets out a sigh. 'I am already leaving. Thanks for the tattoo.' 

'No problem. See you soon?' 

'Not for another tattoo tough.' 

Noor gives him a wink. 

* * *

The sun is already setting when Sander parks his car inside the garage. 

He groans when he sees the car that belongs to his brother in law. 

He is probably going to stay over otherwise, his car wouldn't be in the garage. The house is big enough to avoid him but there is a big change that he needs to say hello and needs to listen to a fantastic business deal he made. 

'Your parents want you to come to the dining room.' Michelle is standing in the doorway. Sander sighs, there we go already. 

'Why?' 

'I don't know. I believe some sort of announcement' 

The artist takes his time to get to the dining room. He hopes that Clarissa is there as well. He misses her. 

'Sander come and join us!' The deep and creaky voice echoes to Sander's ears. 

His parents are still eating with their daughter and son in law. 

The bleached-blond boy takes a seat at the table. 

'Good to see you, bro.' 

Sander cringes at the fact that a forty-year-old man is speaking to him in that way. 

'You too Raphael.' 

The artist manages to smile. 

'Clarissa.' Sander gives her a soft nod but she doesn't look at him. 

She stares at her plate and plays with the food. 

'Well now we are all together, we can finally tell you the good news!' 

It is clear that Raphael has been drinking. 

He is sweating and red spots in his neck. 

'What kind of good news?' 

Justine gives him a cramped smile. 

'You are going to be grandparents and an uncle! Clarissa is pregnant!'

Both his parents start to clap but Sander can only look at his older sister whose hands are shaking. 

The artist almost falls from his chair when she looks up. 

His sister doesn't look like his sister anymore. Her cheeks that always were kind of chubby are hollow. The skin is stretched tightly over the cheekbones She has big purple bags underneath her eyes. Her lips are pressed together into a thin line. 

'Congratulations Clarissa sweetie, how far are you?'

Sander's mother reaches her hand out towards her daughter who stands up. 'I need to go to the bathroom.' 

'She is twenty-one weeks pregnant.' 

Justine takes a sip of her glass of wine. 'I remember that I used to go to the toilet all the time. Especially with you Sander, you never stopped moving. ' 

Clarissa doesn't come back to finish dinner. Michelle tells them she went to bed early. 

So Sander is alone to listen to stories about his mother's pregnancy who is clearly excited.

Sander feels angry. If the only had reacted this way a few years ago. Suddenly he sees red with anger. They are all so hypocrite. He tightens his fist underneath the table and tries to take a deep breath. 

'I am going to bed. I am tired.' 

He congratulates Raphael once again and wishes his parents a goodnight. 

Sander goes straight to bed. He feels tired.

He quickly replies to Robbe who has sent him a picture of a cheese ham sandwich. 

_-Look, I am eating croques!-_

_That is not a croque, it has to be warm. I can teach you it tomorrow if you want?'_

_-Sorry, I really have to study. Wednesday perhaps? -_

_Wednesday? Why not Monday or something_

_-School, I have a few deadlines and my partners will actually kill me. Wednesday I am free the whole evening. -_

_Wednesday evening it is then. Shall I come to pick you up?_

_-That is okay, I have a different address though.'-_

_??_

_What do you mean?_

_-Long story, I have to go now because Aaron is throwing up and he might chokes xxx-_

Sander stares at the last message. Where those xxx intentionally? 

He feels a smile creeping on his face. It can't be Wednesday soon enough. 

Sander is almost sleeping until he hears his door open. 

'Sander?' Clarissa's soft voice sounds through the room.

'What is it?' The artist sounds sleep drunk. 

'Nothing you can go back to sleep.'

He sits up straight. 'Well, I am awake now. What is going on?'

'Raphael is snoring.'

'Yes and?' 

'I can't sleep.' 

'Why don't you try one of the other seven guest rooms?' 

'I don't want to be alone.' Her voice is soft that he almost doesn't hear it. 

'Come on then.'

Clarissa lays next to him. 

'Don't you think we are a little too old for this?'

'You are my little brother. You never grow up in my eyes.'

It stays silent for a while. 

'We just to do this as kids all the time.'

'I miss it.' 

Sander holds his sister's hand. 

'Sander.'

Her voice breaks and she starts to cry. 'I don't want this.' 

'I know Clarissa, I know.' 

He squeezes her hand while his own tears stream down his cheek. 

* * *

'So, what is the plan?'

Robbe looks at him expectantly and takes a sip from his cola. 

'I am taking you on a date.'

Robbe spills his drink over him, glancing up in shock

'You can't just do that.'

'Well, I am doing it.'

'Why?' 

'Because I want to date you, Robbe. That is the point of taking someone on a date. '

'Do I have a say in this or are we doing what you want?' 

Sander snorts. 

'Do you want to go on a date with me Robbe Ijzermans?' 

The other boy bites his lip. 

'Can I ask you a question?'

'First you have to answer mine.'

'But my answer depends on your answer.'

'Alright then.' 

'What is your last name?'

'Oh.'

Sander didn't expect that question so soon. He doesn't really know how to answer this. He doesn't want to lie but at the same time, he is scared of Robbe's judgement. 

'It is Driessen. Robbe Driessen sounds pretty good doesn't it?' 

The artist holds his breath and keeps his eyes on the road. 

It stays silent for a while. 

'So does Sander Ijzermans.' 

Robbe gives him a cheeky smile. 

'Do you still want to go on a date with me?' 

The younger boy nods and Sander is confused. 

Doesn't his last name ring a bell? Was it a coincidence that Robbe asked that question? 

'Why did you ask that?' 

'I wanted to know if you would lie to me.'

'When did you know?' 

'Monday, I kept texting you so my lab partner took my phone. She saw your profile picture and recognised you. At first, I didn't believe it but then I googled you and came across some pictures of you.' 

He smiles to himself.

'With brown hair. You were very cute.'

Sander lets out a relieved breath. So he doesn't know about Britt. He knows he needs to tell him soon but this isn't the right moment.

'You don't care?'

'I am not stupid Sander, I did suspect something. Which teenager drives in a car like this? Has a fucking house he doesn't live in? I was afraid that you were a pimp or something.'

The artist snorts. 

'What? You could be one!'

'Of course but aren't you mad that I didn't tell you sooner?'

'I would do the same in your situation. It must be hard for you to find people who genuinely care for you.'

'You don't think I am an asshole?' 

Robbe gives him a soft smile. 'No, of course, I don't. Well, that is also not true because you are an asshole but a different kind. Not the bratty kind' 

'What kind then?'

A blush appears in the younger boy cheeks. 'The kind that teases a lot.' 

'You like that, don't you Robin?'

'Shut up.' 

'But for real though, you still want to date me?' 

'As long as you behave normally.'

'Normal as in?'

'No expensive things or dates.'

'Okay.' 

'Promise?'

'Promise.'

_Expensive is kind of relative though._

'Are you going to tell me where we are going?'

'Nope.'

Robbe sighs and rolls his eyes. 

* * *

'This was kind of cool, to be honest. I didn't expect that.' 

They are standing on a bridge, trying to catch their breath. 

Sander snort while he takes his mask off. 

'You liked the rush?' 

'No that was no fun at all. I haven't run like that since high school.' 

'You still have a bit of paint here. Wait let me help.' Sander rubs the nose of the other boy softly.

His cheeks turn red and he stares at the ground. 

'Have you ever been chased by the police before?'

'Too many times but I have never been caught.' The artist smiles proudly. 

'Do you spray often?' 

'I had a time where I went every single day but now maybe once a week.'

'Do you know all those people?' 

Sander shakes his head. 'Not personally, I recognise their art and stuff but I wouldn't know their full names. Any other questions?' 

Robbe shakes his head. 'Sorry.'

'And we are back with apologizing.'

Sander gives him a friendly push. 

'But for real, did you enjoy it? I know I am kind of obsessed with art and stuff.'

The younger boy gives him a shy grin. 

'It was the best date I have ever been to.' 

'And we didn't even interact. Can you imagine what happens when we do?'

Robbe rolls his eyes. 

They are both staring in the distance looking at the city lights. 

'What are you thinking?'

'I am deciding if I want to kiss you or shove you of this bridge.'

'Can I choose?' 

Robbe looks him into his eyes. 'No, you can't.'

Sander can't help himself. He presses a quick kiss against the other's boy lips. 'Sander!'

'I just want to help you. There is a very thin line between hate and passion.'

'Is there?'

'Hmm.'

'Do it again.' 

'Magic word?'

'Please?'

'Wrong.' 

Robbe shakes his head. 'You are truly impossible.' The smaller boy leans in and gives Sander a soft peck before he pulls his head back. 

They stare into each other eyes for a while until Sander can't hold back anymore. He wraps his arms around the other boy's waist and pulls him closer. 

'I am going to kiss you again.'

'Please do.' 

The artist closes the gap between them. 


	5. Chapter four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At the end of the chapter, there is a mention of some sensitive stuff. Nothing really bad but I wanted to let you know!

Sander feels happier. 

His nights are less long and less dark and most important less lonely. 

Even if Robbe isn't with him during the night, he always is. 

Through text messages, phone calls, in his artwork, his smell in Sander's blankets. 

His days are filled with so much love. 

The soft touches, small kisses, sweet whispers. 

Sander feels like he is at the top of the world. 

Not floating but with two feet at the ground, Robbe grounding him so that he doesn't get lost in space. 

The younger boy shows him genuinely love without asking anything in return. 

He doesn't expect anything from the artist. 

'What are you thinking about?' 

They are laying in bed at the cottage, windows open so they can smell the salty sea air. Robbe is playing with Sander's hair.

'How much I love you.' 

The brown-haired boy wraps his arms tighter around the artist who feels like crying. 

He buries his head in his lover's chest who place a kiss on his head and holds him even tighter. 

This is everything Sander ever wanted. Someone who will hold and loves him. 

They have been dating around two months now. It has been the best two months of Sander's live. They are not spending as much together as he would like because they are taking things slow. 

If it were up to Sander they would move in together right here and now, but Robbe is still kind of hesitate. It feels like the younger boy is not completely sure if his boyfriend's feelings are real. 

So Sander tries to show him. First, he bought Robbe a beautiful ring but it didn't really work then he tried a golden earring but that also didn't get the reaction the artist had expected. 

Maybe Robbe wasn't a jewellery man. 

So he bought him a skateboard since the younger boy loves to skate. It was a superior skateboard from some special Chinese designer. 

The other boy was grateful but it didn't reach his eyes.

Sander tried fancy dates. He took the boy to all sort of restaurants. Let him try things he had never tried before. 

Still not the reaction the artist wanted.

He wanted that Robbe felt the same way as he felt. Loved, cherished, admired. 

He was getting frustrated that he didn't succeed until one night. 

They were at the cottage again. Robbe had had a busy week so they decided to stay there that night. 

Sander would cook while the younger boy could get some rest on the couch. 

The artist was making his favourite dish to make until suddenly two arms were wrapped around his waist. A small head pressed against his back. 

'What are you making?' 

Sander had turned around to kiss his boyfriend on his nose. 

'Some hamburgers with sweet potato and a Cobb salad.' 

Robbe smiled at him. 'A Cobb salad? Fancy.' 

It was a nice evening. They were eating their dinner outside in the sunset, talking about their week. Sander had told him about his new art project. 

'Can I see some of it?' 

The artist remembered feeling surprised but he handed his sketchbook over to the younger boy who went through it excitedly. 

'You are extraordinarily talented. You know that?'

Until he stopped flicking through the pages, his mouth felt slightly open. 

'What is it?'

Robbe showed him a sketch om himself sleeping.

'Did you make that?'

'Oh shit, I know that is creepy. I am so-' 

But the smaller boy stops him by laying a finger on his mouth. 

'I can't believe you have done that. It looks beautiful.' 

'Not as beautiful as the real thing.'

Robbe looked at him and Sander just knew this was it. This was what the younger boy wanted. He wasn't like every other person the artist ever dated. He didn't give a shit about money or jewellery. 

The brown-haired boy was happy with a self-made meal and a simple drawing. 

He wanted Sander, not his money, not his status, not his art talent. He just wanted Sander. 

The artist got a warm feeling in his stomach when he realised that. 

He had found the one. He had found a boy who loved him. A person with who he could risk it all. 

Sander still hadn't told him about Britt. He knew it was only a matter of time before Robbe would found out himself. It was better if he heard it from Sander. 

But it was such a heavy topic. 

Confessing meant taken action and the older boy wasn't sure if he was ready for that. 

If he was ready to turn Britt down, face his parents, give everything up. 

He would do it for Robbe, but it felt too soon. His boyfriend might would feel as a burden and Sander was afraid that it was going to ruin their relationship. 

Sander needed some more time to figure out how he was going to do it. So he pushed away his guilt and enjoyed his little bubble. 

'How was that party you had to attend yesterday?' 

Sander had almost drifted asleep in his lover's arms opens his eyes to stare to his boyfriend.

'Huh?'

'That party from, I don't remember his name, the one that almost gets married.' 

'Oh, you mean Senne. It was fun but kind of boring as always.'

'What do you do at a rich party? Swimming in the fancy pools? Drinking expensive cocktails?'

'Sniff cocaïne.' 

Robbe rolls his eyes.

'I am serious, everybody does coke over there.'

'I can't tell if you are joking or not?' 

'I wish I was.' 

'Do you do that too?' 

'No.' 

'Sander.'

'Sometimes.' 

The younger boy stays silent for awhile

'How does coke feel?'

'It fucking hurts your nostrils.' 

'But after that?' 

'Why do you want to know?'

Robbe shrugs. 'I am just curious.' 

'It feels pretty damn good.'

'Like any other drug.' 

'The thing with coke is, you don't feel drugged. It works short and quick. You feel amazing for like thirty minutes and there are not really any side effects.'

'Not even afterwards?' 

'There is something afterwards but that is not as nearly as bad as XTC or speed.' 

'So you do that too?' 

'Oops.' 

Robbe smiles at him. 'Idiot.' 

The younger boy starts playing with his hair again. 

Sander falls almost back to sleep again.

'Sander?'

The artist lets out a soft groan. 'Yes, love?' 

'I don't want to tell you what to do or anything but you shouldn't take drugs.' 

'Everybody does it Robbe, no need to worry about it. I know when to stop.'

'That is not what I mean. I have done drugs myself before but with your medication.'

'What is it with my medication?'

'Not so much your medication but also the fact that you have bipolar. Drugs don't compliment it.'

'I know that.' 

'Okay, then I haven't said anything.' 

Sander sits up straight to look Robbe into his eyes. 'That is it?' 

'You are an adult. You can make your own decisions.' 

Sander's ego is caressed, but he feels a strange heavy feeling in his stomach. He bites his lip when he realises that he wants Robbe to tell him off. 

'You can tell me that I am being stupid. I know that you think it.'

The younger boy shakes his head. 'You are not stupid.' 

'I want you to tell me that I am acting recklessly and immature.' 

'Sander, you are young it is okay to try and do things.' 

'No, it is not.' His voice breaks for some stupid reason and tears are welling up in his eyes. 

Robbe guides him back into his arms and starts caressing his scalp again. 'Yes, it is.' 

'I just do it to feel something.'

'That is okay, baby.' 

Tears are strolling down his cheek when Robbe peppers his head with soft kisses. 

'No one ever told me to stop and I need it. My parents let me do everything as long as I behave as the perfect son in front of the media. They don't care what I am doing in my free time. I just want someone to stop me. Someone who cares.'

The last sentence is barely a whisper. 

'I care, Sander, I really care but I don't want to baby you.' 

'I want to be babied. I want someone who tells me what I am doing is not healthy.'

'I can do that.' 

Sander lifts his head to look at his boyfriend. 'I don't want you to feel like a caretaker, I just want-' 

Robbe kisses him. 'We can look out for each other.' 

'Don't be afraid to tell me the truth, okay? I need it.' 

'Same goes for me.' 

'Deal?'

'Deal.' 

The artist lets out a deep sigh. 'You are the best thing that ever happened to me.'

'Better than coke?'

Sander snorts. 'Coke doesn't come even close. You last longer and you have no side effects. The only problem is that you are way more addictive. You are like my own special kind of cocaine.' 

'Did you just quote Twilight?'

'Twilight? That vampire story? You have watched that?' 

'Euhh no that is not what I meant.'

Robbe's cheeks turn red. 

'Yes, it was and you even remember some quotes. Were you a fanboy?' 

The younger boy scoffs him. 'No, I wasn't.' 

'That is okay, baby. I can be your sparkling vampire.'

'So you have watched too?'

'No, I just remember something about sparkling vampires because it absolutely makes no sense.'

Robbe rolls his eyes but wraps Sander in his arms again. 

The artist closes his eyes and listens to his lover's heartbeat. He is so close to falling asleep again until Robbe interrupts him again. 

'Can I ask you a question?'

Sander groans, 'Robbe.' 

'I am sorry, I will ask you tomorrow. Sleep well.' 

The younger boy switches the light off. 

'Now you might as well tell me.'

'No, it can wait.'

The taller boy tickles him in his side. Robbe let out a giggle. 

'Alright, I will tell you.'

'My friends want to meet you. You have been invited to this school party at my university.' 

'Okay.' 

'What do you mean okay?'

'Okay like I take the invite.'

'But I thought-'

'You think too much, cutie.' 

'I think you don't understand what kind of party.'

'A party is a party.' 

'I don't think your parents would want to see you at a party like that.'

'Is it like a sex party? Do I have to be naked? That is no problem at all' 

Robbe nudges him. 'No of course not. It is a simple party.'

'I am going to be fine.' 

'The people there like to gossip.'

'Do you want me to go, Robbe?'

It stays silent for a while. 'Yes, but I don't want you to feel uncomfortable.'

'As long as you are there, it is going to be okay.'

'You might have to wear some other clothes. Maybe people will attack you.' 

'Attack me?'

'For money or something. Your appearance screams rich.'

'So I need to go undercover?' 

It stays silent again. 

'Forget about it. It is stupid.'

Sander tries to find his lover's lips in the dark and places a kiss on them. 'I would love to go undercover. Being a real teenager for one night.' 

'You are twenty-one. You are not a teenager anymore.'

'You can't see my eyes but I am rolling them.'

'Good to know, old man.' 

Sander kisses him again before he goes back on laying on his boyfriend's chest. 

'Goodnight cutie.'

Goodnight Sander.'

* * *

'Are you leaving again?' 

His mother is standing in the doorway. 'Yeah, I am going to a friend. I will be back tomorrow.'

'Do you have five minutes to talk?'

Sander checks his watch. 'Not really but what is wrong?'

His mother takes place at the edge of his bed. 'I just want to know how you are doing. I have barely seen you last month. Where are you going all the time?' 

The artist lets out a deep sigh before he hops into his armchair. 'Hanging with some friends.' 

The woman across him nods. 'Are you feeling better?' 

'What do you mean?'

'Do you feel cured?'

'Of what?'

'Being bipolar.' 

'There is no cure for it mum.'

His mother nods. 'I know that I am sorry. I am just struggling with the right words.' 

Sander gives his mother a cramped smile. _She tries, she is fucking trying._

'I see you smile more often. It makes me happy.' 

'Yeah.'

'Are you talking to that boy? What was his name again?' 

The artist hesitates. This is a dangerous topic. 

'His name is Robbe, we talk sometimes. He is a good kid.' 

'Does talking to him help you?'

Sander chooses his words carefully. 

'He understands what I mean and he doesn't judge me.' 

His mother has tears in her eyes. 'I will never judge you as well. You know that right?' 

She sounds so genuine that Sander almost believes her. He nearly tells her everything. 

But he shouldn't. The woman in front of him can't be trusted with information like that. Who knows what she will do when she founds out.

'Why don't you invite him for dinner sometimes? I would love to meet him and thank him. Maybe I can introduce him to a friend of mine. You know who Clara is right? She is the head of the best medical school in New York perhaps she can offer him a place.' 

'He can't afford that. He is a normal boy.'

'I am sure we can arrange something. You pay him right?' 

Sander shakes his head. 'He doesn't want that.'

His mother gets a confused expression. 'He does it for free? Why would he do that?'

'Because he is a good person. He wants to learn from me.'

'So he uses you as a test subject?'

The artist squeezes his eyes together. Why is she this way? Why can't she see that not everything revolves around money?

'No, he doesn't use me as a test subject. He just wants to know what kind of medication I take.'

'Oh, if that is everything.' 

'I need to go now.' 

His mother kisses him on his cheek. 

'Have fun sweetie, where were you going again?'

'To some friends.'

'Who?'

'You don't know them. They are in my year.' 

'Take them here sometimes. I want to meet them.' _To make sure they are rich enough to hang out with._

'Yeah, bye.' 

Sander kicks a bin on his way to the garage. 

His mother knows exactly how to drive him crazy without even realising it. 

He takes a deep breath before he steps into his car. 

_Which address?_

_-The one that is not on the campus. -_

_See you in twenty minutes😘_

_-Drive safe!❤-_

It turned out that Robbe didn't live in that hovel. It was just the place where his friends lived. The brown-haired boy lived in a small apartment twenty minutes from the campus. 

He lived together with two other roommates. 

Sander had only met one of them. A tall guy with brown hair. He had an interesting personality but his heart was in the right place. He looked out for Robbe so Sander liked him already. 

The other roommate was a girl. The artist would meet her tonight because she would join them for the party. 

It was a lovely apartment. Kind of small if you asked Sander but that was not something strange. 

So Sander didn't really understand why Robbe had given him a different address the first time. When he had asked the younger boy about it he got a vague answer. Something about that it was easier. 

Robbe is already standing in the doorway as Sander walks out of the elevator. 

'Hey, you.'

'Hey, me.' 

Sander kisses his boyfriend. 'How are you doing?'

'Good, I feel like getting drunk tonight.'

'That is good to hear.'

'What about you? Ready to be poor for one night?' 

The artist rolls his eye. 'I could never feel poor when I am with you.'

Robbe bites his lip and smiles. 'That was smooth. I liked that one.' 

'What do you think about my clothes?'

The younger boy looks at him from head to toe. 

Sander was wearing a simple white shirt and some black jeans.'

'The shoes and jacket are giveaways but they could be fake so it is all good. You need to take off your rings though. 

'No one is going to look at his fingers, Robbe.' 

A familiar girl with short bangs joins them in the doorway. 

'What a small world we live in.' 

Her tone doesn't sound friendly at all. 

'You to know each other?' 

'Do you know somebody else that can tattoo that good?' 

Noor winks towards the brown-haired boy and gives a dead glare towards Sander, who doesn't understand what he has done wrong. 

He opens his mouth to ask it but gets interrupted by the bell. 

'That is probably pizza. I will be back soon.' 

Robbe walks towards the elevator. 

'What is wrong with you?'

'What is wrong with me? What is wrong with you!'' 

Her brown eyes are spitting fire.

'What do you mean?'

'What are you doing with him?'

'Nothing, I am just his boyfriend?'

'You know damn well what I mean. You are fucking engaged!'

'You know it is not real.'

'Does Robbe knows it?' 

Sander says silently.

'Fucking asshole, does he know?' She hisses at him

'No, he doesn't okay? I will tell him soon.' 

'Now you have to listen very carefully, -'

'Pizza!' 

A very excited Robbe walks out of the elevator. 'You two still standing here in the doorway?'

'Yeah, we were just going inside.' Noor gives him once again a deadly glare. 

Sander doesn't get why she is so mad. He knows that he should tell Robbe, but it is not like he and Britt are together. They are just engaged for the benefits that their parents would get from it.

'I didn't know what your favourite pizza was so I choose pepperoni.'

'That's fine.' 

Robbe looks up when he here the tone of his boyfriend.

'Everything alright?'

The older boy nods. 'A bit tired perhaps.'

'We can stay here tonight if you want.'

Sander shakes his head. 'I feel like going out.' 

'Okay. We need to leave in like one hour. You can borrow Milan's bike. 

'Bike?'

'Yeay a bike. You know what a bike is right?'

The artist snorts. 'Yes, I know what a bike is but isn't it too far away to cycle?'

'Around half an hour.' 

'Why can't we take a cab or something?'

Robbe boops his nose. 

'Because we are not rich, Sander Driesen. Do you have any idea how expensive a cab is?'

'I can pay, right?'

'Nope, you are getting the whole experience of being poor tonight.' 

Sander groans loudly. 

* * *

'Ewa brother!' two young men jump up two high five Robbe. He remembers one of them. He saw him at Amber's place. What was his name? Mohammed? Morris? Something with Mo.' 

'This is Sander.' The younger boy gives him a small smile.

'Sander, those are Jens and Moyo.'

A tall guy gives him a fistbump. 'Nice to meet you, bro.' 

The guy named Moyo gives him a nod and stares to Noor who also just walked in. 

'Aaron is not here yet?' Robbe takes off his jacket and goes sitting on a dodgy looking couch. 

'He is but he is already upstairs with Amber.' 

Moyo lets out a sigh. 'The fucking evening hasn't even started.' 

Sander doesn't really like thinking about his sister that is upstairs right now but luckily a girl with long hair comes to distract him. 

She is clearly already drunk. 

'Robbeee, introduce me to your boyfriend. You promised me you would as soon as, whoops- ' She spills her drink all over herself. 

The brown-haired boy rolls his eyes. 

'This is him, Jana.' 

The girl smiles at him. 'He is some hot stuff, Robbe. Good job.' 

She probably thinks that she is whispering or she has no shame. 

'You guys are late, you need to catch up. Sander, what do you want?' The taller boy sends him a questioning look.

'Gin and tonic please.' 

Jens snorts. 'Yeah sure, here have this.' 

He hands him a shot glass with a clear liquid. 

Sander down is in one go with much regret. It feels like his throat is burning. 

'What the fuck is this?'

'Vodka.'

'That is no vodka.' 

'It is cheap vodka.' Robbe smiles at him. 'Do you like it?' 

The artist scoffs at him. 

The party was exactly was Sander had been expecting. Busy, smelly, loud and sweaty. The appealing smell of weed mixed with the smell of vomit and piss. The music is loud with such a hard bass that he is sure that he will suffer hearing damage. Lots of people grinding on each other. Including them. The artist didn't expect to have such a good time as he was doing. 

It was the first time he and his boyfriend went to a party together. Sander founded it interesting to see how is lover behaved around other people he knew. 

He was a little shit. He teased the hell out of all his so-called broersss but they did the same to him. 

It was nice to meet Robbe's friends. They were indeed idiots but the good kinds. The ones that meant no harm. 

The alcohol was fucking horrible. It all burned in his throat and it made his head kind of cloudy but Sander didn't care. 

He had his boyfriend in his arms, marking his exposed neck, pressing his hips against the other boy's ass, tugging his hair softly. 

There was no better feeling than this. 

No one was watching them, they didn't stand out. 

Sander felt free like he could do whatever he wanted. So he was absolutely doing that. 

Suddenly Robbe throws his head back so that they can look each other into the eyes. His pupils were kind of blown. 

'You having a good time, baby?'

The artist shifts his hips so that can press his semi against his lover. 

'An amazing time.' 

The younger boy turns around and kisses him. Dirty, with a lot of use form his tongue. 

Sander feels so excited and happy about the fact that he can kiss his boyfriend like that in public. 

Robbe takes his hand. 'Come.' 

He takes him to the crowded bathroom and looks for an empty stall, pushing the older boy against the door. 

'Do you enjoy it as much as your frat parties?'

The brown-haired boy teases him, gliding his hand down towards Sander's belt and undoes it. 'It is much better. I feel like a real teenager.' 

'Mhh.'

Robbe goes to his knees.

'You want another real teenager experience?'

The artist let his head fall back against the door. 

* * *

'You need a moment?' 

Robbe is smirking at him. 

'Fuck that was good.'

Sander is still coming down from his high. 

'Come here.' 

He wraps his arm around the younger boy and kisses his forehead. 

'I think we need to go now. It is quite antisocial to keep the toilet occupied for so long.' 

'What about you then?' 

Robbe gives him a quick peck. 'I'm not short on anything and maybe we can have another round tonight.'

'Gladly.' 

The smaller boy unlocks the door. 

'If you go through that door over, you can fresh yourself up in the boy's locker room. It is not so busy over there. I will be waiting on the dance floor.'

The boy gives him a wink. 

Sander throws a puddle of water in his face. 

There is no one the locker room so he takes his time. 

He needs a few more minutes before diving back into the chaos. 

'Enjoying yourself?' 

Noor walks through the door. 'I saw you walk over here and wanted to check on you.' 

Her gaze lingers at his undone belt. 'I see.'

'Can I do something for you, Noor?' 

'You need to tell Robbe. You are going to destroy him if you don't.' 

'Yeah, but is kind of heavy topic. Looking for the right moment.'

'That is such bullshit, Sander! You tell him tomorrow or I will do it.'

The older boy let out an annoyed sound. 'Why are you making such a big deal out of this? I know I should tell him and I will do it. There is a lot more to it that you don't understand.' 

'You are going to destroy him if he finds out on his own.' The girl repeats. 

'What do you mean by that?' 

'Sander, can't you see he is head over heels for you?' 

'He knows he can trust me. I am not doing anything wrong.'

'Keep telling yourself that but I swear to god if you break his heart.'

'Noor, I don't need your shovel talk. I love him.' 

'You just don't understand it.' 

'Explain it then.' 

'It is a long story.'

'Well, I have the time.' 

'Robbe has just bad luck with lovers.' 

'Yes, he told me about that. Empty promises and stuff.' 

Noor shakes her head. 'It was something more than that.' 

'What do you mean? I thought I was his first real relationship.'

The girl lets out a sigh. 'He told you that?'

'No, I had assumed that and he never corrected me.' 

'Robbe had a boyfriend before if that is what you can call him.' 

'What do you mean?'

The girls hesitate.

'Noor.'

'I don't really know what happened. He refuses to talk about it. All I know is that the dude was ten years older, manipulative piece of shit, that he cheated and that Robbe once came to me in the middle in the night with a red neck.' 

'Red neck?' 

Noor puts her hand on her throat.

'Oh, Oh!'

Sander feels shocked. 'Did he try to murde-'

He can't even say it. 

The girl shrugs. 'I think it was a little game that got out of hand but Robbe broke up with him afterwards. He changed his number and moved in with us.' 

'Fuck.'

'Robbe has never been the same really. He didn't believe in the idea of love anymore. Always avoiding potential love interest until you.'

She looks at him threateningly.

'I swear if you fuck him up again, you are going to regret for the rest of your life.' 

Sander stays silent. 

'How do you even know him so well?'

'We were boyfriend and girlfriend once.' She smiles. 'Until Robbe realized that he was gay.

The artist snorts. 

'You know I feel kind of bad that I told you. Robbe should have told you.'

The girl shifts uncomfortably on her feet. 

'I won't say anything until he does.' 

She takes his hand. 'Please don't break his heart. I am not sure if he can't handle it. He has been through too much already.' 

'I won't, I promise I won't.'

Noor smiles softly at him before she walks out of the door. 'You need to tell him.' 

Sander takes a deep breath and throws another puddle of water in his face. 

Fuck. 

Fuck all of this. 

Fuck that douchebag that hurt his boyfriend.

Fuck his parents that had put him in this position.

Fuck Britt for using him. 

Everything can fuck off. 

He takes another deep breath before he walks back to the dancefloor. 

Tomorrow he promises himself. Tomorrow he will worry about everything. Tonight he can let himself go. 

'I was afraid you got lost.' 

Robbe jumps on his back. 

'I live in a house with over forty rooms. I don't get lost easily.' 

'Humble. Here, you missed a round of shots.' 

Sander takes the glass. 

And another one. 

'Take it easy, baby, I don't feel like dealing with a grumpy you tomorrow.'

At the thought of tomorrow, Sander takes another shot. 

'Or you don't.' 

Robbe kisses his cheek and jumps off his back. 

'Let's go dancing again.'

The rest of the night is a bit of a blur. 

He so fucking drunk he almost can't stand on his legs anymore. He is searching for Robbe who went to get their jackets. 

'Oops, I am sorry.' He bumps into a girl who makes an annoyed sound. 'Watch where you going.' 

Wait he knew that voice. 

He grabs the arm of the girl who screams. 

It is her. It is fuckin her. 

Sander almost didn't recognise her. 

Her long blond hair tied up in a messy bun, bright red lips and two big hoops in her ear. 

She fits right into the scene. 

Fucking Britt Ingelbrecht. 

Her mouth falls open when she recognises him as well. Her face turns red and before Sander can say anything she has already torn herself from the taller boy and disappeared into the crowd. 

The artist drunken brain can't process what just happened. 

'Sander, come we are going to get some food.' 

Robbe takes his hand. 

'I am drunk.'

'I know baby, some food now may help your hangover tomorrow. Here, drink some water already.' 

Sander drinks greedy gulps. 'That is good.' 

The younger boy gives him a kiss. 'Did you have a good time without your money?' he teases.

The artist nods. 

'It is your turn next time.'

'For what.' 

'To stand in my shoes.' 

'What do you mean?'

Sander smiles at his boyfriend. 'What are you doing in the autumn break?'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


	6. Chapter five

Sander woke up with a pounding head, vomit taste in his mouth, and feeling dehydrated.   
He lets out a groan.  
His throat feels like sandpaper and every single muscle in his body hurt.

At least the curtains were still closed. The artist felt like he would die at the sight of daylight.   
He barely remembers anything, only flashes. Robbe pressed against him, the burning vodka in his throat, his boyfriend on his knees, talking to Noor.

He lets out another groan when he thinks about their conservation. There was no way he was going to talk today about anything at all. 

Robbe was not laying next to him.   
As if this morning couldn't get any worse.   
He presses his eyes together. He needed some more sleep before dealing with his hangover. 

When Sander opens his eyes again, there is some daylight in the room. He also hears somebody whispering.   
His head was still pounding and he feels sick. 

Why do I drink alcohol?  
It is worth feeling this miserable?

'Goodmorning sleeping beauty.'   
He feels somebody stroking his leg.   
'Hm.'  
'You okay?'  
'No, I am dying.'  
His voice sounds like he has smoked ten packages in a row.

'Told you to slow down.'   
Robbe's face appears above his own. His eyes are twinkling.  
'I am never drinking alcohol again.'   
'Sure.'   
His boyfriend moves back to the edge of the bed.   
'Don't leave me.'  
'I am right here.'   
His leg is getting stroked again.

'Fuck Jens cover me.'   
Sander squeezes his eyes together at the loud sound.   
'I can't believe you are playing a video game while I am dying.' 

'Don't be dramatic. In the evening a man, in the morning a man.'  
'I don't want to be a man anymore.'   
'Should have thought about that when you downed four shots in a row.' 

The artist lets out a miserable sound.   
'There is some water and paracetamol on the bedside table by the way.'  
'Can you give it to me?'   
'It is closer to you than to me.'   
'Please?'

Robbe sighs. 'You are lucky that you are cute.'  
The younger boy hands him a glass. 'You have to drink it all.'   
'I don't want that.'  
'It will make you feel better, believe me.'   
Sander groans before he brings the glass towards his lips. 

'Aaron, Jesus Christus what are you doing?'   
'Don't be so loud' wines the artist. Robbe turns around and gives him a wink. 'Sorry baby.'   
'Yeah, Sander is hungover as fuck. He is fucking miserable.' The smaller boy is giggling into his microphone.

'Stop gossiping about me. I need your cuddles right now.'   
'Five minutes then we are probably done.'

Sander let his head fall back dramatically.   
'I thought you loved me.'  
Robbe pets on his leg. 'I do, I still do, don't worry.'   
'Come cuddle with me then.'

The younger boy snorts.   
'You can never say that I am the clingy one ever again.'   
'Robbe.'  
'Promise me, then I will cuddle with you.'   
'I will never call you the clingy one ever again. We are both clingy bitches alright?'

The brown-haired boy turns off his controller and crawls towards his boyfriend.   
Sander buries his head into his lover's chest.  
Two small hands start to play with his hair.   
'You want some breakfast soon?' 

'Absolutely not.'  
'You gotta eat something. It is already 3 pm.'  
'In a minute, okay?' 

Robbe gives him a forehead kiss. Sander lifts his head to ask for some more.   
The younger boy gives him a grin and places a soft kiss on his lips.   
'I love you.'   
'I love you, sleepyhead.' 

They lay there for a while before Sander gathers the strength to stand up.  
'Can I shower first?'   
Robbe nods. 'I will grab you some towels.'   
'Do you want to join me?'   
'I already showered.   
'Can't believe you betrayed me like that.'

The younger boy gives a playful slap.   
'Where are my clothes?'   
Sander is apart of from his underwear completely naked.  
'Yeah about that, you kind of threw up all over them. Noor is washing them for you but they are not dry yet. I managed to save you jacket though. That would be a mess to clean up.' 

'I fucking threw up?'

Robbe chuckles.   
'The last time I threw up because I drank too much was like four years ago.'   
'Let's just say it was all part of the experience.'  
'I am sorry, Robbe. I should have behaved better.' 

The other boy just gives him a wink. 'It is okay, baby. You will just have to wear some clothes from me.'   
'What about my shoes?'   
'Noor had thrown them away before I could do anything. She told me you wouldn't care. I am sorry.'  
  
'That bad?'   
Robbe shrugs. 'I have seen Aaron done worse if it makes you feel better. Your jewellery and stuff lay in the drawer of my desk. You usually take them off before you go to bed so I did for you.'

Sander feels his cheeks heat up.   
'Is that a blush I see? Is the Sander Driessen blushing?'   
The older boy let his head fall.   
'This is so fucking embarrassing.'   
His boyfriend gives him another forehead kiss. 'We have all been there, don't worry. I don't like it when you have frowns in your face.'   
'You sure you don't want to join the shower? I believe you said something about another round but I can't really remember.' 

'Maybe you should look into the mirror first. You look like you are going to faint any minute from now on.'   
'Where is the bathroom?' Robbe holds his hand out. 'Come I will show you.' 

Sander feels slightly better after his shower. His head is still pounding but he feels more human again.   
He sitting on the kitchen table dressed in Robbe's sweater and sweatpants listening to a story Milan is telling him. 

'I am never doing that again. I felt like dying. The next date, if there is going to be one, we are going to do something boring like a movie or something.'   
The older boy keeps talking until Noor walks into the kitchen.   
'I have your clothes, Sander. They haven't become completely clean because you also had ketchup on them but they are fine.' 

The girl hands him his jeans and shirt.  
'I will probably just throw them away, but thanks.'   
'Milan weren't you supposed to start working at 4 pm.'  
The tall men stand up. 'Damn it, I almost forgot thanks, Noor.' He kisses her cheek. 'I will be home late tonight. Bye Sander, see you soon again hopefully!'   
Milan rushes from the kitchen. 

Noor takes his place at the table.   
'So.'  
Sander licks his lips kind of nervously.   
'Where is Robbe?'   
'He went to do some groceries. He will be back soon.'   
The girl nods  
'You want some coffee?'   
'I am not sure my stomach can handle it, but please.'   
'You behaved like an idiot last night.'   
'Don't remind me.' 

Noor turns on the coffee machine.   
'You drink it black right?'  
Sander nods.  
'Do you still remember our conversation.'  
'Yes.'   
'Hmm.'   
It stays silent  
'Maybe it was wrong with me to be so harsh on you. I am not standing in your shoes. I just don't want Robbe to get hurt.'   
'I don't want that either.'

'I won't tell him if you promise me you will tell him soon. It is not my place to pressure you.'

'I will tell him soon.'   
Noor hands him his coffee. 'I believe you.' 

Suddenly the door flies open and a grumpy looking Robbe is standing the doorway.   
'The fucking elevator doesn't work. I had to climb the stairs with like thirty kilograms of groceries.'   
'Poor boy, we are lucky that you are so strong.'   
Noor kisses the brown-haired boy on his cheek before she walks out of the kitchen. 

Sander signs towards his boyfriend that he must come and sit on his lap.   
The other boy rolls his eyes, put the groceries down and straddles his lover.  
The artist hides his face into his boyfriend's neck.  
The younger boy starts to massage his scalp.   
'Hmm.'  
'Do you want something to eat already?' 

'What do you have?'   
'I can make you some french toast if you like?'  
'Something lighter, please?'   
'A cereal?'   
The artist can't remember the last time he has eaten cereal. 

'Cereal is okay.'   
'Did you find the toothbrush that I put next to your towels?'  
Sander nods.   
'Good.'   
The younger boy climbs off his lap and starts to open some of the cupboards. 

'I really enjoyed last night.'   
'I did too, despite feeling like shit now.'  
'You are just not used to that type of alcohol. Next time will probably be better.'   
'Next time?' 

Robbe gives him a bowl of cereal. 'Only if you want. I am not offended if you don't want to go again. I know it is not really your type of scene.'  
'Anything is my type of scene as long as you are there.'  
The younger boy rolls his eyes.   
'But I will gladly go again if you will join me with something else.'   
'With what?'  
'What are you doing this autumn break.'  
'Studying, you asked me this last night but you never told me why'  
'Are you studying the whole week or do you think you can take some few days off?'

Robbe glares at him suspiciously.   
'Why?'  
'I want to take you somewhere.'  
'To where?'  
'A bachelor party.'  
'From who?'  
'Senne.' 

'I don't think that is a good idea.'  
'Why not?'  
Robbe looks at him like it is obviously. 'I won't fit in.'  
'I fitted in last night.'  
'That is different.'   
'Is it? You also need to go undercover.'   
The younger bites his lip. 'I don't know Sander.'  
'I want you to experience the posh boy live for a night. No one is going to notice.' 

Robbe stays quiet.  
'We are just going to have some fun. You have worked so hard the last weeks, you deserve a small vacation.'   
'Wait where is this bachelor party?'  
'Dubai.'   
'Sander, you know I can't pay for shit like that.'   
'I will pay for you.'   
'I can't accept that.'  
'Why not? You paid for the pizza and fries last night.' 

The younger boy rolls his eyes. 'Oh yeah sure. I pay for the pizza and you take me on a vacation. In what world is that a good deal?'  
'In our world.'   
'Sander, I-'  
'Shh, don't worry about it. I don't want to go without you so you are doing me a favour.'   
The other boy is still hesitating.   
'I promise you it is going to be fun. You deserve a small vacation, okay?'   
Robbe sighs. 'Okay.' 

Sander grins. 'I love you.'   
'Love you too.' 

* * *

This is as good as his life is going to get the artist decides.   
Cocktail in his hand, sun on his skin, feet in the sand, his boyfriend lying next to him, the sound of waves is the background. Sander has never felt more happier. 

He glares over his sunglasses to admires his lover. His skin already slightly tanned, his abs are looking amazing as always, beautiful collarbones, a neck full with hickeys, his hair- 

'Stop staring.'   
'Just admiring the view.'   
'Stop it.'   
Sander knows his boyfriend is blushing. 

This was their third day in Dubai and the artist never wants to leave. He is loving the quality time he is spending with boyfriend giving him everything he deserves.   
Sander had to move heaven and earth to spoil his boyfriend, but the younger boy had finally accepted it.   
It had been the best few days of his life.   
The way Robbe reacted to things was just amazing, their hotel room was bigger than the fucking cottage, the food was good, the weather was fantastic. It felt like a dream. 

Later today they would go to Senne's bachelor party and Sander felt every hour a little more like ditching it.   
He didn't want to ruin his bubble with his boyfriend. It felt so good to be alone with him. 

'Come laying in my lounger, please. I feel like touching you.'  
'We can't Sander.'  
'Why not?'  
'We are on a public beach.'

The artist snorts. 'This is not a public beach. This is the beach from the hotel. The only people allowed here are guest from the hotel.'  
'Still.'  
'What do you mean?'  
'Dubai is not really gay friendly.' 

Sander rolls his eyes. He knows his boyfriend is right about that but here on the beach is no one going to care. The artist always tried to book an LGBTQ friendly hotel. Most expensive hotels were that anyway. 

'Robbe, they are not going to say anything. We are staying in the most expensive room for fuck sake. We are to royalty to them. What are they going to do? Kick us out? That is not going to be good for their publicity. I will make sure that everyone knows they refused a member of the Driessen family and then their reputation will be ruined. We hold the power here.' 

The younger boy lifts his head up and smiles at him. 'You can be so cocky sometimes.'  
'I know it turns you on.'  
'No, it doesn't.'

A smile appears on Sander's face. 'Yes, it does. Come, lay next to me now please.'  
'Nah, you still need to practise.'   
And the artist's smile disappears with those words.   
'Fuck no.'  
'Yes, otherwise you will never get better.'   
Robbe pulls him out of his lounger   
'I just want to watch you´ whines the taller boy.   
'Nope, you are going to join me.' 

It turns out that his boyfriend had a passion for surfing. Sander thought it would be a fun activity to do together as a couple. He hadn't expected that is lover was already a fucking pro.   
In contrast to Sander who couldn't even stand on the board for two seconds.   
Robbe had decided that is was his mission to learn Sander how to surf.

The older boy had laughed at first but he started to like it less every single day.   
It was tiring and he was done swallowing seawater.   
Robbe takes his hand and grabs his surfboard.   
'You know the first steps right?'  
The artist lets out a deep sigh. 

'I don't want to go.'   
'You have to. It is your best friend and you are going to be his best man. Come on get off the bed.' Robbe takes his arms to lift him off the bed

  
'They are all idiots.'   
'So are we.'   
Sander pulls his boyfriend back on him.   
'Five minutes okay?'   
'Hmm.'   
Robbe puts his lip's on the older boy's neck and starts to place gently and tender kisses all over the skin. 

The artist closes his eyes. He wishes that he could freeze time. He doesn't want this moment to stop.   
'We really got to go now.'  
Sander groans. 'Let's go then.' 

He can't explain why he is so nervous about this. Maybe it is the fact that those parties are not safe for work. There are probably going to be strippers maybe even prostitutes, infinity amounts of drugs and alcohol, and there will be stupid money games.   
Sander bites his lip. It was not a good idea to bring Robbe here.   
What if he changes his mind about Sander?   
What if this makes him realise what kind of douchebag his boyfriend is?

'You okay, baby?'   
Robbe traces his cheek. They are sitting in the back seat of a cab.   
'I need to warn you about some shit.'   
'Tell me.'   
'There are probably people going to hit on you.'   
The younger boy snorts. 'That will be okay. I will just tell them I am with you.' 

Sander closes his eyes. He is a fucking idiot.  
'Yeah, I am not sure if you can do that.'   
Robbe's expression changes. He bites his lip  
'Yeah, I expected that.'  
'Huh?' 

_Please don't let him know about Brit, please don't._ Sander prays, hoping that someone will answer his prayers.   
The artist has finally decided how he was going to tell him. He was going to invite Robbe around the cottage and cook him dinner. After dinner, he will tell him everything. Absolutely everything. The artist has already written down an entire speech, but this was not the place or time to talk about it. 

'What kind of couple goes to a bachelor party together?'  
The older boy is so relieved that he feels tears in his eyes. Luckily Robbe has just put his head on his shoulder so he doesn't notice it.   
'Yeah, that is what I mean.'  
'What do I do when people try to hit on me?'  
'Just tell them you are not interested.' 

'Why are you so sure that someone is going to do that? It is a bachelor party for fuck sake, there are no girls anyway and I don't have gay written on my forehead, so?' 

Sander lets out a nervous laugh.  
'There are girls there.' And probably a lot of gay guys as well.   
'Ow, well I will see then. It's going to be fine.'   
'Strippers, there are going to be strippers' Sander blurs out.

The younger boy lifts his head to look Sander in his eyes.   
'Please tell me you are joking. I am not prepared for that.'  
'There are probably prostitutes as well. Male and female.'

Robbe groans. 'Sander, what the fuck?'  
'Yeah the rich, right?' the artist tries to laugh it off.   
'Do people actually pay for that?'   
'There is already paid for it. They get paid per hour and a bonus for everyone who has complimented them on their euhh skills?'

The other boy lets out a whistle. 'Fucking hell.'   
'I will try to stay around you. They can be quite pushy' 

'Fucking hell' the boy repeats. 'I am not ready for this.'  
'Neither am I.'  
'You are used to this, right?'  
'Doesn't mean I can handle it.' 

It stays silent for a while.  
'There are also going to be a lot of drugs.'   
It was a statement from the younger boy.   
'You don't have to do anything you won't want to.'   
'What if I want to?' 

Robbe gives him a challenging look.   
Sander bites his lip. He doesn't want his boyfriend to do drugs, but he knows that he is being a hypocrite if he says that.   
'You can do whatever you want but I admit that I will be disappointed if you let a stranger suck your dick.' 

The younger boy changes to shock. 'Wait, we don't to that right?'  
'I feel like spicing some things up in the bedroom. What about a nice threesome? You can choose if you want a boy or girl to join us.'   
Sander doesn't get the reaction he expected. Robbe lets his head hang and shifts away from his lover.   
'I was kidding, Robbe.'  
'That is not funny.'

The tone of his boyfriend his harsh.   
Sander was taken aback for a moment. It was not like his boyfriend to react this way. Usually, he will roll his eyes or gives the older boy a soft push.   
'I am sorry, I won't do it again.'

The artist lays his head on his lover's shoulder.   
Robbe pulls his head away to look out of the window.   
Sander tries to take his hands but he pulls them back too.'  
'Hey, what is wrong? It was a stupid joke, nothing more.' 

'For you is everything a stupid joke. You can say such mean shit sometimes.' 

'Robbe, I didn't mean to offend you. What is going on?' 

The younger boy shakes his head. 'Forget it.' He looks towards Sander and forces a smile on his face. 'What?'  
'Just being dramatic. Didn't sleep well and you took me off guard with those strippers. Sorry.'

Sander fails to see the logic in his boyfriend's behaviour but he decides to let is go for now.   
'I won't let them come near you.'   
The older boy winks. 

'Tss, I can handle them on my own.'   
'You say that now. One thing I can tell you is that they are hot and they will do anything you want.'   
'You seem to know much about them.'   
Robbe gives him a teasing look. Sander feels a blush creeping on his cheeks.   
'Yeah, I just heard stories.'   
'Sure. You would never pay for sex would you?'   
'I swear I never have.'  
'Okay, if you say so.' The younger boy is laughing at him. 

The artist wants to change the subject right now so he talks about the first thing that is on his mind.  
'My parents want to meet you.'

  
His parents kept nagging him to bring Robbe to dinner. They wanted to thank the boy for his service and helping their son. They were impressed because he had done something a real doctor or therapist couldn't do. Make their son happy.

'You are can't just keep dropping bombs like that on me.'   
'Yeah, I need to work on timing.'   
'As what do they want to meet me?' 

Sander bites his lip. Why does he act first and think later? How was he supposed to beat around the bush with a question like that? 

'They know we talk a lot.'  
Robbe nods. 'But what-'  
'My mother has an offer for you.' 

His mother had talked to her friend and had bragged about the brown-haired boy's skills without having a proper education.   
Clara, the friend of his mother, was interested in Robbe. She wanted to meet him through skype and might offer him a full scholarship. 

'Huh?'  
'My parents want to thank you for helping me so they did you a favour. They know someone who his the head of the best medical school in New York. She wants to meet you and might offer you a full scholarship.' 

Robbe's eyes get big.   
'Sander, what the fuck is going on with you? You can't just do stuff for me like that.'  
'It is not me, it is my parents.'   
'What the fuck have you told them about me?'   
'Just how smart and amazing you are.' 

Robbe shakes his head. 'I can't fucking believe you. We are so going to talk about this after the party.'

'It is good right?'  
'I am thankful but you know I can not go.'  
'Why not?'  
'I can think of a million reasons.'  
'We will figure it out together later. I am sorry I just said it like that. I thought it would be something you wanted.'

The younger boy is searching for words.   
'You know that is my dream, but New York is on the other side of the world. I can't leave everything and everyone behind. I don’t want to leave you!'

'You wouldn't have to leave me behind.'  
'What do you mean?'  
'I will follow you everywhere. On top of that New York is a good city for artists.' 

Robbe stares at him. 'You would go with me?'   
Sander kisses his boyfriend's hand. 'I will do absolutely anything for you. I love you.' 

He leans in to kiss his lover.   
'Think about it. You and I together in New York. Moving in together and starting a new life. Away from everything. Just you and me.' 

'We are here.'

The taxidriver opens their door.   
Robbe shakes his car while he steps out of the car. 'You have got no tact at all. Have you ever heard of subtlety?'

'Subtlety wie?'  
Sander grins towards his boyfriend who rolls his eyes.   
'You are impossible. Where is that damn party by the way? There is nothing here.'   
They are standing on a pier.

  
The older boy takes a deep breath before he points to the huge yacht next to him.   
Robbe mouth fall opens.   
'I know cutie, let just get over with it.' 

* * *

  
It is going pretty well. A lot better than expected.   
Sander is kind of enjoying himself and he can see that Robbe also is.   
The was almost funny how much attention the younger boy got.   
He was constantly surrounded by girls who were flirting with him. 

The artist almost died of laughter when a girl took her top off and placed herself on the smaller boy's lap. The gay panic was written all over his face.   
They had drunken some fancy drinks and they had as a team participate in a game of poker. It was an easy win because all their opponents were drunk.   
Robbe had never played it so Sander taught him and the second round they had won quite a bit of money. At least in the smaller boy eyes. He couldn't believe it when he got handed all the cash. 

The artist enjoyed observing his boyfriend in situations like this. Robbe was different and yet the same person. He was as kind to everybody even pushy strippers who he treated with a lot of respect. The younger boy had been talking to a stripper for a solid fifteen minutes. Sander wondered who he did it.   
Robbe had just a different vibe then everybody around here, but no one seemed to care. 

When it became dark Sander decided that he had enough. Most persons had past out anyway or were hooking up in a private room. 'Shall we go?'  
Robbe nods.   
They were both a bit tipsy but nothing bad. They both had turned the drugs down. 

It had been a nice evening until the end. The end fucking ruined everything.   
Sander should have known. It was his own stupid mistake. 

'Senne bro, we are leaving.'   
Senne was wasted. He was laying on a couch with two half-naked girls next to him.   
'Already? You haven't even introduced me yet.'   
'This is Robbe, a friend of mine.' It hurt Sander physically to say those words.   
'Robbe, that is the one that gets married.' 

The younger boy glare lingers on the two girls, one of them had placed herself on Senne's lap. 'I see, congratulations.'   
'Thanks, I appreciated that you came. Sander, we see each other soon right?'   
The artist nods. 'Yes, you enjoyed your last party as a free man?'   
Senne snorts.  
'Of course, it was fucking great. I can't wait for your party. I have already got a surprise for you.'  
'Yeah.'   
Sander doesn't look at Robbe. _Please shut up, Senne. Please_. 

'When are you finally getting married? I want another party. Britt has already picked a dress and stuff so it shouldn't be too long right?' 

The artist feels the sweat break out.   
'Britt, wie?' 

'Your fucking girlfriend? The person you have been engaged to for two years? Sander, are you feeling alright?'

He can hear Robbe's breathing falter, but he doesn't dare to turn around.   
Senne's expression changes and he look from Robbe to Sander and back.   
'Wait, I am confused. You are single, very single. No one is engaged, apart from me. I am sorry just the combination of alcohol and drugs.'

Senne bites his lip.   
Robbe walks away towards the exit  
'I am sorry bro. I didn't realise' but Sander doesn't hear him anymore. He runs after Robbe. 

He cuts him off and stands right in front of him.   
The younger boy doesn't look him in the eyes when he speaks. 'We talk about it when we are back in the hotel room.'  
Robbe walks passed him. 

The tension in the cab is horrible.   
His boyfriend doesn't look at him.   
Sander knows he deserves this but he tries to keep calm.   
Just stick to the plan. You have an explanation. Tell him the truth.   
His lover's body is tense. Sander can see the way the younger boy squeezes his fist and he wants nothing more than take him into his arms, tell him that everything is going to be alright. But he can't, he knows he has to explain first. 

Robbe goes sit on the bed and Sander sits in the chair across him when they are back at the hotel  
Eye-contact was going to be the key.   
'I assume that you have an explanation or something?'   
The brown-haired boy still doesn't look at him, he plays with a loose strand of the blanket. 

  
'I do. Of course, I fucking do.'   
It stays silent.   
'What is it then?'  
Robbe finally looks him into his eyes and Sander is lost.   
There is so much pain the brown eyes, the pain he caused.   
His brain malfunctions, he doesn't know what to say, his speech is gone. 

'Sander?'   
The voice of the smaller boy sounds desperate.   
Sander doesn't know how to speak anymore. The voices in his head are screaming.   
'I, I, -'   
'Tell me, Sander.'   
'I am not going to marry her.'  
'So you are engaged?'  
'No, I mean yes, but not really.'   
'I can't follow you.'

Sander squeezes his eyes. If there only would be silence in his head. 

'The plan was that Britt and I were going to marry each other is a few years because we are a good deal for our parents. We didn't feel like committing to each other so we decide that we both could have a bit of fun before the wedding and stuff.'   
He takes a deep breath and opens his mouth to continue his story but Robbe has already stood up. 

The smaller boy kicked a chair that was standing on the other side of the room. His hands were going roughly through his own hair and tears were streaming down his cheek. 

'I can't fucking believe.'   
'Robbe wait, let me-'  
But the boy kicks another chair.   
Sander is shocked. He doesn't recognise the boy in front of him. The always collected and calm boy. 

'I truly believed you. I thought you were different.'

'I meant everything I said, I swear. Just listen to-' 

'A bit of fun. How could I be so blind? How could I be so fucking blind and naive again!' 

'Robbe, please.'   
'Fuck off.' 

The younger boy grabs his suitcase and throws some stuff in it.   
'What are you doing?' 

'I am leaving.' The boy pushes his clothes into the backpack

Error is Sander's brain.   
The voices that were screaming so loud earlier have shut up. Only the be replaced one sentence that keeps repeating itself over and over.   
_He is leaving_  
 _He is leaving!_  
 _HE IS LEAVING!_

The artist makes an inhuman sound.   
'You can't leave.'   
'Watch me.' Robbe swings his backpack on his back.  
'Where are you going? It is almost the middle of the night. Please let me explain.'

'It is none of your business where I am going.'

Sander feels that he starts to breath quicker. 'You can't leave.'   
'Fuck off. I will do what I want.' 

Robbe walks towards the door. 

_Do something!_ His brain is screaming at him again. 

The older boy gets on his knees and wraps his arms around his lover's waist. 'You can't leave.' 

'Fucking hell Sander, get up, this is humiliating for the both us.'  
But the artist pushes his head against his boyfriend's stomach and tries to control his breathing. 

He can't. 

'Let go of me.'   
Robbe gives him a soft push but the taller boy holds him even tighter.

He can't breathe. He can't fucking breathe.   
'I can't.'

It stays silent for a second but it feels like a century.   
The air in his body is running out. He gasps for air. 

'Sander, take a deep breath.'  
He feels two small hands holding his face.   
'I can't.'   
'Yes, you can. In through your nose and out through your mouth.'   
'It doesn't work.' 

His chest starts to hurt.   
'Robbe, I am dying.'  
'No your not, you are having a panic attack.' 

Robbe walks towards their kitchen. 'Please don't-'  
He can't speak.   
Tears are streaming down his cheeks.   
He starts to see stars. 

'Here.' Something is put over his mouth what makes breathing easier.   
A small hand is stroking over his back.   
'That is it. It is going to be okay.' 

He finally gets air again.   
Sander let his head fall on his boyfriend's shoulder. Overwhelmed by the   
fatigue. 

He doesn't know how long they sit there for.   
'You are not just a bit of fun. You are my everything.' 

Robbe sighs.   
'I mean it. I am lost without you.'   
Still no reaction.   
'I have an explanation. A good one. I wrote it down. It is in my backpack. You can read if you want.' 

The younger boy shakes his head.  
'Robbe, please I beg you. I love you with my entire heart.' 

'I know.'   
'You do?'   
Tears start to stream again.   
'I do, let's go to bed now. You can tell me everything tomorrow. I promise I will listen to the full story.' 

Robbe pulls him up and lays him gently down in the bed.   
'I never wanted to lie to you. I just-'   
'You can tell me tomorrow.'  
The boy tucks him in.   
'Please be here tomorrow.'   
'You won't get rid of me that easily.' 

Sander squeezes his eyes together.   
_Please let everything be alright._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, the kudos and the lovely comments! I hope everyone has a good day!


	7. Chapter six

He tried to open his eyes, but his eyelids were stuck together through dried tears. 

Sander lets out a groan.

Why does everything feel so heavy? 

It takes him so much effort to lift his hand so that he can rub in his eyes. 

He can't pinpoint why he feels anxious. 

Until it hits him like a truck. 

The sheets on his other side of him are empty and cold

Robbe is not in bed. 

The artist gets up so fast that he pulls a muscle in his neck. 

'Fuck.' 

There is a pile of neatly folded clothes on the sofa in front of the bed.

The clothes he had bought for his boyfriend, for the party. 

The designer forest green shirt, the light blue jeans, the white sneakers, the gold sunglasses and even the ring he had given for him when they were together for a week.

No, this can't be happening. His lover had promised.

'I am here.' 

Robbe is sitting in a chair across the bed. His eyes are red and puffy, he is wearing his own clothes, a packed suitcase is standing next to him, the boy has purple bags underneath his eyes and looks like he hasn't slept at all. 

'That is what I promised, didn't I? And unlike some other people, I don't make promises that I am not intending to keep.'

If someone had shot the artist, it would have hurt less. 

The tone of his boyfriend's voice was so harsh and cold. 

The younger boy looks him straight into the eyes, not even try to hide his disappointment and frustration. 

Sander wants to disappear. He feels so attacked and guilty.

The way the other boy is staring at him makes him want to crawl underneath the blankets and never come out of. 

'Do you have something to say? Otherwise, I would like to go.' 

_ I would like to go  _

Sander swallows when he feels his chest hurt again.

A wave of embarrassment hits the artist. The way he behaved last night was pathetic. Instead of acknowledging his mistakes, he started to sob like a baby and let Robbe comfort him. As if Sander just hadn't broken his heart a few minutes ago. 

And his boyfriend had even done it. 

Sander didn't know where the boy got his strength from. 

'I want to tell you everything.' 

'Well, I am waiting.'

The older boy closes his eyes. The way Robbe is talking to him throws him off guard. His boyfriend was the most gentle person Sander had ever met and to hear him talk with such hate and pain in voice breaks his heart. 

'I was never going to marry Britt. Everything was fake anyway.' 

'And that is why you never told me because everything was fake anyway.' 

Robbe nods sarcastically. 'Good point.' 

'You don't understand it.'

'How can you expect that from me?'

Sander let his head fall. This going the wrong way again. He takes a deep breath.  _ Tell me everything, Sander. Start with the beginning. _

'I was seventeen years old when I started to date Britt. At first, I wasn't interested in a relationship. I was enjoying my freedom, but Britt is a family friend so I gave her a chance. Our parents were over the moon with excitement that was important to me. 

After a few months, we both realised that we weren't meant to be. We are too much alike. I wanted to break up, but she stopped me. She told me it was better to stay in an open relationship and pretend to be in love in front of our parents.' 

Sander takes a deep breath. 

'Turns out she was right.' 

Suddenly the artist is overwhelmed by emotions. He gets so mad at everything because it is all so ridiculous. Why didn't he walk away earlier? Why did play along for so long? 

'Why was she right?'

Sander starts to talk and he doesn't know how to stop. It is as if someone unlocked his tongue and threw the key away. Suppressed feelings and thought from the past few years. He tells Robbe everything. About Amber, his own parents, Clarissa, Senne and Zoë, the engagement, the art gallery, the diagnosis of bipolar disorder, his biggest fears. He doesn't stop until he feels so much lighter like something is off his chest. 

'Every day I lost more and more hope. I felt so lost and in the dark until you. When I saw you, I knew you were going to be the one. The one who would save me.'

The older boy doesn't dare to look at his boyfriend.

'I know I should have told you way sooner, but I was scared. Scared that you would leave me or that you wouldn't understand me. You make me so happy and I just can't lose you.' 

A few tears stream down his cheek. 

'I wanted to walk away before, but I never had the guts to do it. I was afraid to be alone, but when I am with you that fear disappears. When I told you about New York, I was serious. I want to start a new life with you, away from everything. Words can't describe what you do to me. Neither can they describe my feelings for you. Just know that I love you.' 

That would have been the last words of his prepared speech.

Sander sits on the bed again, burying his head in his hand. 

He has said everything he wanted,  _ please let it be enough. _

It stays silent for a while. 

The artist opens his fingers slightly so he can peak at his boyfriend. 

Robbe has an unreadable expression on his face. His hand are playing nervously with each other. He is staring at Sander.

'Why would I believe you?' 

'Because I never wanted to hurt you.'

'That is a bullshit answer.' 

'You don't have any reason to believe, but I swear that I am telling the truth. You are my everything.' 

The brown-haired boy shakes his head. 'I really thought you were different but now I think about it, you have never given me any reasons to believe that you are different from all the other assholes.' 

'Robbe, please.' 

'I have seen it for myself yesterday. Relationships don't mean anything for rich people.'

'They do to me.' 

'You just told me you were never interested in a relationship with Britt!' 

'I want to have a relationship with you and you only.' 

'No, you want affection. Someone who cares for you. One question though, why me? Am I that easy to fool?' 

'Robbe no-' 

'You looked at me once and thought: Yes this going to be someone with who I can fuck around for a bit. Someone who will give everything they have because they are so fucking naive and desperate themselves.' 

'No that is not-' 

'I fucking told you I was afraid that no one will love and you just kept going? Did you-?' 

Sander can't handle it anymore. He walks towards the smaller boy and places his hand on the other boy's cheek so that they are forced to face each other.

Robbe tries to pull away, but Sander won't let him.

'I never lied to you about my feelings. When I first saw you, I thought you were an angel. The way the sunlight was shining down on you. I just knew we were meant to be for each other. 

I adored your clumsiness and shyness. Your suspicion when we hung out for the first time, the way you were so kind to me. I love the way your eyes light up when you talk about something you passionate about. The fact that you never judge people for their fears. That you want to help everybody. I admire your strength and compassion. How you can tease your friend but still be supportive. The way you enjoy the little things of life. I have already learned so much from you and I want to learn so much more. 

Do you remember that painting I send you on the day we met? 

I had a terrible evening and my subconscious mind had painted you because you already brought me peace and comfort even back then. 

I want to wake up in your arms every day, I want to cook with you, I want to go on dates with you, fuck I want everything as long as it involves you. I want your love and only yours because there is no one like you.' 

Two big teary brown eyes are staring at him. 

'I mean it, Robbe. I know you have been lied to before, but I will do everything for you. I will break up the engagement right here and right now to prove it. I don't care what other people think as long as I have you because you and I are a team. We can conquer anything together.' 

Sander closes his eyes when he feels tears in his neck. 

He strokes over the brown curls while the younger boy sobs. 

The artist wraps his arms around the small waist of his boyfriend to lift him and bring him towards the bed. 

Robbe buries his head into the crease of Sander's shoulder, rolling completely on the older boy. 

'It is okay, baby. I promise that it is going to be okay. I love you.'

The artist holds his lover as tightly as he can while tears stream over his own cheek. 

A small hand intertwines their fingers. 

'Please mean it.' 

'I mean it, Robbe.' Sander grabs the chin of his boyfriend so that they can make eye contact. 'I love you.' 

A smile breaks through on the teary face of the brown-haired boy. 'I love you too even though you are a dickhead sometimes.'

Sander chuckles relieved. He was so close to losing it all but he hadn't. The universe had given him one more chance. 'Can I kiss you?' 

Robbe nods. 'Please.' 

The kiss is wet and messy. Both boys can't really coordinate right now. 

They are giggling while they wipe and kiss each other tears away. 

'I love you so much.' 

It escalates quickly. 

Sander turns them around so that he can lay on top of his boyfriend. 

The small hands of his lover roaming over his own back, digging his fingernails when the older boy starts to kiss his neck. 

'Off, you need to take this off.' Robbe tugs at his shirt.

The artist smiles before he gets rid of his shirt. 'You too?' 

The smaller boy lifts his head so Sander can strip off his shirt. 

'So fucking pretty.' 

The artist stares at his boyfriend's exposed chest before he leans down to kiss all over his lover's abs. 

Fingers start to unbutton the jeans he has been wearing since last night. Sander releases a moan when a warm hand sneaks into his underwear and start stroking his dick slowly. 

The older boy kisses his way up on to his boyfriend's stomach, gently biting his lover's nipple, marking the skin around his collarbones and licking the sensitive neck of the other boy. 

'Sander.' 

The artist closes his eyes. The way Robbe moans his name makes him feel like he is in heaven. 

He gives the smaller boy a dirty kiss on his mouth before he makes a trail of open-mouthed kisses back down to the belt of his boyfriend. 

The warm hand disappears from his underwear when Sander undoes the belt of his lover and takes off his pants and underwear in one go. 

The artist bites his lip when he sees that Robbe is already semi-hard.

'You want this right?' 

The brown-haired boy nods and paws at the older boy so that they can kiss, but Sander has other plans. 

He leans down to kiss the head of his lover's dick before he takes him completely into his mouth. 

'Yes' whispers the younger while let his legs fall further open to feel a bit more of the fingers teasing his entrance. 'Yes, Sander please.'

The artist reaches out towards the bedside table where a bottle of lube is standing. 

He takes his time to prep his impatient boyfriend, making sure that there will be nothing but pleasure. Robbe tugs the bleached hair and arches his back when Sander adds another finger. 

'It is g-good, Sander.' The brown eyes roll back when the older boy hits a certain spot. 

Robbe wraps his arms around his lover's neck. 'I want you.' 

'I am here' whispers the older boy softly.

'All the way.' 

Sander stares at the still teary face of his boyfriend. 'You sure?' 

'Yeah Sander for fuck sake, just, just do your thing.'

The artist pulls back his fingers and kisses the boy underneath him. 

'I love you.' 

He let his fingertips gliding over the skin of his loved on before he gently grabs the knees and pushes them towards the chest of the smaller boy. 

'I love you too, but please  _ hurry up _ .' 

Robbe has closed his eyes and digs his fingernails into the back of the taller boy. 

Sander gets goosebump all over his body as soon as he enters his boyfriend. It feels so good. There is no other way to for them to get physically closer. Their bodies are connected, receiving pleasure at the same time, making love to each other. They fit so well together. 

The artist feels a tear of happiness escaping. 

Robbe lets out a shaky breath before he wraps his arms around the neck of the taller boy, pulling him down to kiss him. 

A small finger wipes away his tear. 'We are going to be okay.' 

Sander nods before he buries his face in the crease of the smaller boy's neck and slowly starts to move. 

Robbe moans while his hands tug the bleached hair. 

The artist feels that two thin legs wrap themself around his waist. 

Sander can't describe what he is feeling. Perhaps the word intense comes close a bit close. 

They have had sex before, but it was never like this. 

The artist doesn't have to worry about hiding things anymore. 

Maybe things felt more intense because of their fight earlier. 

The sex is slow and soft but there is still a bit of frustration left in their body that is being released right now.

Robbe moans again when Sander speeds up a little, thrusting harder and deeper. 

The fingernails of the younger boy are back digging in his back.

'Sander' his boyfriend's voice is shaking and a tear rolls down his cheek too. 

The artist wipes it away with his thumb. 'I know love, I know.'

It is the best sex Sander has ever had. He has never felt like this before. The boy feels loved. 

Sex was always more of a release for the older boy. 

A quick shag to get rid of some frustration or becomes he is simply said fucking horny. 

It had always all been different when he was with Robbe. More intense. 

Sander always thought that was because he was in love, now he realises that it is because they are making love. 

They are showing who much they care for each other. 

Their bodies working together to please them both. 

It is fucking fantastic. 

Sander can feel a heat building up in his stomach. 

He grabs the waist of his lover and bends it slightly so he can thrust harder. 

Robbe's head falls back completely.

The artist can hear from the small noises his boyfriend is making that he is also close. 

Sander stares at the pretty face of the younger boy. Robbe has closed his eyes, his red bitten lips are slightly parted, he has a pink flush on his cheeks. 

The artist can feel him pushing up his hips and arching his back a little more. 

The angel changes again and this time Sander hits the jackpot. 

Almost every time he thrusts, he brushes against the spot inside his lover. 

Robbe's mouth falls open. ' _ Yes.' _

'That is it, baby. Are you close?' 

The younger boy nods while he tugs at the hair of his boyfriend to bring him down. 'Kiss me.' 

Sander can't concentrate anymore. He starts to see stars. 

His body is already shivering but he doesn't stop pumping into his lover. He searches blindly for Robbe's dick and starts to jerk him off. 

The orgasm is mindblowing. 

The brown-haired boy squirming in pleasure underneath him, painting both their chest with a white substance. 

Sander collapsed on his boyfriend when he has milked both their orgasms to the max. 

They are both panting. 

Robbe starts to stroke his back lightly and the artist is convinced he is in heaven. At least not on earth. It feels too good for that. 

They lay together for a while both trying to recover from the rollercoaster of emotions they just went through. 

Robbe is tracing the skin of his lover while Sander caresses the brown curls. They have rolled over. 

The younger boy lays now on his chest and Sander can see that he starts to doze off. 

A part of the artist wants to let him sleep, but he knows how awful his boyfriend is going to feel when he wakes up with still cum inside and all over him. 

'Cutie, we have to shower real quick, then you can sleep.' 

'Hmm.' 

'Come on.' 

He pulls at his lover's limbs. 

It takes some effort but he gets them both into the big shower. Robbe is practically hanging on him like a koala. 

They exchange soft kisses while they wash each other's bodies. 

Sander closes his eyes. He can't believe this is real life. 

The younger boy head starts to fall again. His eyes are closed and open again suddenly. Robbe is clearly fighting against his sleep. 'Come on.' 

Sander wraps his boyfriend into a big towel and grabs a dressing gown for both of them before he basically carries his lover to the bed again. 

Only to found out their bed is be cleaned right now. 

Two ladies are refreshing the bedsheets.

Sander feels a blush creeping on his cheek when he sees a woman picking up their clothes from the ground and folding them. 

The bottle of lube is also on the ground. 

Sander is not fast enough to pick it up before the other lady, who has just noticed him. 

She starts to talk quickly with a heavy accent so the artist doesn't understand her. 

She is probably apologizing. 

The taller boy shakes his head and brings his boyfriend to a bed in the other room. 

'Where are you going?'

A sleep drunken voice comes from the blankets. 

'Will be right back, cutie.'

He walks back to the two ladies who apologize again when they see him. 

'We thought you weren't here. We sorry.' 

Sander gives him a small smile. 'That is okay.' 

One of the ladies is old. Probably older than his grandmother. Yet she is still working hard to make sure the bed is perfectly formatted. 

She lets out a shaky breath when she is done. 

A knock on the door and a man wearing a suit walk in. He stares at Sander and then at the women before he starts to shout something. 

Both lady give him a small bow before they grab their stuff to leave. 

'I am sorry sir, they will be punished.' 

The artist gets a weird feeling in his stomach. It rubs him the wrong way. 

'What for? They did nothing wrong.'

'The came into your room when you were there, sir. I am really sorry.' 

Sander feels embarrassed. Those poor ladies just cleaned up the bed where he had sex not even an hour ago. The sheets were a mess. And now they are getting punished on top of that. 

'I need to ask them one thing. Can you send them back to me?' 

The man in the suit also bow. 'Of course, sir but maybe I can help you as well?' 

The artist shakes his head.

As soon as the man leaves he takes out his wallet. 

He knows this is the classic behaviour of a rich douchebag, but he doesn't know what else to do. 

Sander hands the women some cash. They don't take it. 

The older lady shakes her head and goes stand in front of the other woman. 'We just clean. Nothing else.' 

The artist gives her a confused look until it hits him. 

'No, no that is not what I meant. This is for cleaning.' 

'We are not allowed.' The younger lady looks him in the eyes for the first time. 

'I don't care. Just take it and do something nice of it. I appreciate you.'

He hands them the money and turns around before they can say anything. 

Sander needs a few seconds and sits on the couch. 

He feels slightly ashamed. What has he ever done to deserve this money? To deserve this luxury. He was just born into the right family. 

Suddenly it hits him hard what kind of privileged asshole he really is. 

'Sander, what is going on?' 

Robbe is standing in the doorway, balancing on his feet. 'Why was I in the other room?'

'They were cleaning here.' His voice sounds off. 

'Something wrong?' His boyfriend is practically brabbling. 

'No not really, come lay in bed. You need to sleep.'

Sander crawls under the blankets and pets the empty spot next to him. 'Come.' 

Robbe yawns before he slithers next the artist, turning around, clearly wanting to spoon. 

The older boy wraps his arms around his lover. 

'Hmm.' 

'Goodnight, angel.'

'Goodnight Sander.' 

* * *

As soon as they land, Sander wants to take another plane to return right away.

It is fucking cold in Belgium. 

Their last day in Dubai was the best. The artist had finally managed to stand on a surfboard for longer than three seconds. They visited one of the highest buildings in the world, had an amazing dinner, went to see a special kind of circus show and had some more mind-blowing sex. 

But what Sander cherished the most was the necklace around his neck. 

They were cuddling in the big bed, still coming down from their second high that evening. The boys had started to talk about the fact that they didn't want to leave. They started to fantasise about their future together. Living on their own in New York. Robbe was going to be the best doctor in the whole world and Sander would be a famous artist. They would live in a penthouse apartment with two cats and maybe a dog. As soon as Robbe would finish medication school they were going to marry. By the time they were thirty, they would adopt a child. 

It felt so good to dream together over their future until Robbe had cut it off. The younger boy told Sander that he couldn't just leave. 

It had almost started another argument but Robbe had taken something out of his backpack. 

A small blue box with a silver bow. 

The artist remembered feeling surprised and confused but apparently, it was present for him. Sander felt a bit uncomfortable and suddenly he knew how his lover felt. 

Sander hadn't even opened the present yet before Robbe had taken it back. It was stupid anyway, apparently.

The older boy had to pull the puppy eyes trick to get it back. 

There was a beautiful silver necklace inside the blue box. 

Sander had traced the cold metal with his fingertips. Attached to the necklace was a charm of an angel. 

'I have the same one in gold, it is a protection angel. You mentioned once that you felt alone sometimes and mine gives me always a lot of support but it is okay if you don't like it. I won't be offended. It is probably not as good or pretty as some fancy brand and it doesn't have any diamonds or anything but-'

Sander had interrupted his boyfriend by kissing him. 'It is the second prettiest thing I have ever seen in my life.'

'What is the first?'

'You of course.'

The angel looks almost like Robbe. It is fucking art.

'Where did you get this?'

The younger boy starts to blush. 'I kind of made it myself. My mother has helped me, though. She is way better than I am.'

'That is impossible, it is perfect.' 

Even his boyfriend’s ears had turned red.

Sander was never going to take it off. He kept playing with it during the flight. It was like he always had Robbe with him. 

'Can you hold my phone? I need to go to the toilet for a second.' 

The artist nods still thinking about his beautiful necklace. 

'Sir, when is your taxi going to be here? Can we already put your luggage outside? ' 

The man who is carrying their luggage looks at him with an asking expression. 

'Huh, wait how late is it?' 

Sander turns on the phone in his hand and gets greeted by his own face. 

The bleached-blond snorts. Robbe was sap sometimes. 

He didn't mean to read the message, he really didn't but his eyes just landed on them. 

_ -Why haven't you visited me this weekend?- _

_ -'I thought you loved me, Robbe?'- _

_ -'You can't leave me as well.'- _

_ -You are the only person I have left.- _

_ -Why can't you see that I need you?- _

_ -You won't do the same as your father, would you?-  _

Sander swallows. 

This explained some things. 

'Sir?'

'Euhh, he will be here in ten minutes. You can put the luggage outside, thank you.' 

The artist felt a bit ashamed that he read those message that clearly wasn't meant for him. He shakes his head. He will deal with it later. 

Suddenly two arms are wrapped around his waist and someone kisses his back. 'Hey.' The soft voice of his boyfriend whispers in his ear. 

'Jesus you scared the wits out of me.' 

Robbe laughs and takes his phone back. His face darkens when he reads the messages. He quickly types something before he puts his phone in his back pocket. 

'Something wrong?' 

'Nah, just some school shit.'

Sander stayed quiet. Should he say something? 

But Robbe is already kissing him. 'Thanks, for everything.' 

The artist gives him another soft kiss. 'No problem. I am going to tell Britt that we are done as soon as I see here then it is going to be us two.'

'Sander, I am not sure-' 

'Shhh, I am.' 

'I don't want that you have to choose between me and your family' 

The older boy snorts. 'There is no fucking choice anyway. There is happiness or darkness. I know what I want and what I am doing.' 

The brown-haired boy stays silent for a few moments. 'You sure?' 

'I love you.'

'And I love you.'

'What more do I need?' 

The smaller boy gives him a shy smile. 

'The taxi for mister Ijzermans is here.'

'You not coming with me?' Robbe looks at him. 

Sander shakes his head. 'I need to see my parents for lunch. They want to know how the party and trip was, that sort shit.' 

'Have fun!'

The artist rolls his eyes. 'As if that is possible without you.'

Now Robbe is rolling his eyes. 'Idiot, thank you, Sander. I will speak to you soon.' 

The younger boy gives him one last kiss before he walks towards the exit. 

'I will call you tonight. Don’t forget that Clara wants to skype with you tomorrow!' Sander calls after him. 

Robbe blows him one last kiss before he disappears through the door. 

Immediately Sander feels an ache in his chest. His boyfriend was truly an addiction. 

* * *

'Sander, look at you! You look so tan and healthy! Did you have fun?' 

The artist mentally rolls his eyes when his mother talks to him like he is a toddler. 

'Yeah, it was great. I had a wonderful time.'

'Good to hear sweetie. How was Senne's bachelor party? Did he behave a little bit?'

'Is was good. I saw a lot of old friends.' 

His mother ruffles through his hair. 'I am happy that you are back. I missed you.' 

'I am also happy to be back.' It hurts to say that. 

'Britt is in your room by the way. She didn't want to join us for dinner tonight. Perhaps you can talk to her? We haven't seen her in ages, I want to catch up with my daughter in law!' 

Perfect. He could break up with Britt right now and talk to his parents tonight. 

Sander feels a smile appearing on his face. 

After tonight he is going to be a free man. 

'Look at you, so in love.' 

'Yeah, I am going to see her.'

'That is a good idea, honey. Don't forget to invite her again for dinner!' 

Britt is sitting on his bed. She is texting somebody on her phone and startled when Sander throws the door open. 

'Jesus Sander.' 

'Sorry.' 

He throws his backpack off and goes sit on a chair across the room. 

'We need to talk.' She looks him at him a serious expression. Sander taking by surprise for a second. He was the one that wanted to talk. 

'Agreed.' 

Britt doesn't look him into his eyes. She plays a bit with the strings of the pillow in her lap. 

'I-'

She doesn't continue. 

'What?' 

'I n-need' she starts to stutter. 

Sander raises an eyebrow. This was not like Britt. 

'What is going on?' 

Suddenly the girl in front of him is sobbing. 

The artist can't process what is happening. He has never seen Britt show any kind of emotion so this comes as a shock. 

Both her shoulder are shocking violently. 

'Wow, take it easy. What is going?' 

Britt shakes her head and starts to cry even louder. 

Sander doesn't know what to do so he just pets her knee a bit uncomfortably, waiting for the girl to calm down. 'It is okay, Britt.'

'I am sorry.' She wipes her tears away and takes a deep shaky breath.

'Do you want anything to drink?' 

Britt shakes her head. 'I have a problem, Sander.'

'Okay? Can I help you with it?' 

The artist can't see where this is going. The blond girl never needed him except for a cover but apart from that. She would always do everything herself. 

'I am pregnant.' 

Sander fails to say something. He is shocked because this came out of the blue. It had never even crossed his mind. 

'Euhh, yeah is the child-'

He scratches his head. It is such a shitty question. 

She gives him a furious glare. 'Of course, that is the only you care about.

Sander does not think that is entirely unjustified to ask. 

'No, it is not yours. I am around twenty-five weeks pregnant. I was in Brazil at that time.'

'How did it happen?' 

She gives him a death glare. 'I hope you know the answer to that.'

'But birth control and shit? You take that pill that prevents shit, right?'

The girl let her head fall. 'Apparently, that doesn't work with antibiotics. Do you remember that I felt ill? While at first, it was a virus but after that-'

She bites her lip.

'Who is the dad?'

Britt shakes her head. 

'You can tell me. You know I don't care.' 

'Well thank you very much.'

'Britt you know what I mean. Who is the dad?'

The girl keeps shaking her head and starts to cry again. 

'Who is the dad, Britt?'

'I don't fucking know okay? It can be like different three guys!'

She starts to sob hysterically. 

'Say it! I know you are fucking thinking it.'

'Britt-'

'I know I am a fucking whore, okay? I wish I could go back in time but I can't. I should have kept my legs closed.' 

Sander goes to sit next to her on the bed. 'Don't call yourself a whore. It is not your fault.'

The girl looks at him with teary eyes. 

She looks so young without makeup, barely even nineteen.

'I need you, Sander.' 

'What do you want me to do?'

'You need to claim the child.' 

The older boy’s mouth falls open. 'I am sorry but what?' 

'We just need to get married right now. You know our parents are going to be over the moon. It is going to be okay. We knew it was going to happen anyways, just a little sooner. You can still sleep with however you want, I don't mind.' 

Sander is speechless. 

'Sander, please.' 

'You realise what you are asking, right?' 

'What else can I do?'

'Get a fucking abortion or something.' 

Her expression changes. 'I can't, I am too late and I don't know if I could have done it. Plus I don't like your tone when you said that.' 

The artist starts to laugh. This is all so fucking ridiculous. 

Her face softens again. 'I am sorry, just hormones, mood swings bad nights. You name it.' 

'Britt, I can't claim that child. I am too young to become a dad from a child that isn't even mine.' 

'Sander, it is just for our parents. Please, I have no other options.' 

'Britt, why don't you talk to your parents.'

The girl starts to laugh. 'My mother will rib the baby from womb herself. I will be disowned sooner than you can sorry or something. Also, think about your own reputation. I cheated on you, the papers will be full of it.'

'I don't give a damn about my own reputation.'

'Sander, I beg you. Looked what happened to your sister! My parents are ten times worse than yours. I will lose everything.'

The older boy shakes his head. 

'I can't raise this child on my own without any help. Do it for the child then. We can give it a good life without any corruption or lies. We are a team, aren't we?' 

Sander stares at the face of the blond girl. She stares back at him with big purple bags underneath her eyes. She looks so desperate and miserable. He feels terrible for her

'I would have done the same for you.' 

The artist let his head fall. He knows he was her only hope. 

How can he say no? How can he throw her in front of the lions? 

He fucking can't.

'Okay, I will claim the child.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, at least Robbe didn't leave?
> 
> Thanks for reading, the kudos and the lovely comments!


	8. Chapter seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to warn you if you are easily triggered by dark thoughts. This may not be a chapter for you.

Robbe keeps calling him. 

His phone keeps lighting up with messages. 

Sander doesn't know for how much longer he can ignore his boyfriend.

He swallows and buries his head into his hands. How on earth was he going to explain this? 

The worse thing was that the artist had hope. He had hope that he and Robbe could conquer this while he knows deep down that there is no way his lover is going to accept this. 

Sander can't blame him. 

'Why are you not picking up your phone?' 

Brit turns around from the mirror where she was doing her makeup. 

'Long story' he is annoyed with her already. 

'Whatever, put your phone on silent. It is irritating me. 

She is acting as if nothing is wrong. Sander had hoped that she would give up being an ice queen after last night, but this morning was she colder than never before. 

The artist expected something more from her. Didn't she realise what she had asked him? He was going to be the father of a child that wasn't his. She had asked him to give up his dreams and future and the older boy wasn't haven it. 

She could at least try to be nice to him. 

'Britt, I am not sure about this.' 

The blond girl groans. 'You have promised me.' 

'Why are you being such a bitch?' 

'Don't you ever call me a bitch.'

The girl starts to brush her hair. 

'Stop acting like one then. I am not the one who has done anything wrong, remember? I am not the reason that you are pregnant.' 

Britt puts the brush down with a loud bang. 

'Leave me alone, Sander. I don't want to talk to you.'

'Too bad because I want to talk to you. I want a plan or something.' 

Sander can see her rolling her eyes in the mirror. 

'What is there to talk about? You and I are going to be parents. We are probably getting married somewhere in the next few weeks.' 

'I don't want to marry you.' 

'You know our parents are going to force us.' 

'Lets just not do it.' 

'I want to then I know that you can't run away.'

Sander takes a deep breath not to start shouting. 

'I want to make a deal with you otherwise I won't do it.'

'We are going to threaten now?' 

'I will claim the child, maybe even marry you but I don't want to live with you.' 

'I don't care.' 

'Good, I will move to New York.' 

'Okay, but after the child is born.' 

'After the child is born. That will be in around April or May right?'

'Beginning of April.' 

Sander nods that is manageable. 

'I want to invite our parents to dinner tomorrow. We can tell them then.' 

'Okay, I am leaving now.'

'Remember Sander, no one can know that you are not the father. Even Senne not.'

'Why?' 

'You know why. People will blackmail us or something.' 

The artist snorts. 'You watch too many movies. Why would Senne blackmail us?'

'Maybe not Senne, but once somebody knows the entire world will know. It is better to keep it a secret.'

'I will see about that.' 

Britt turns around so that she can stare him into his eyes. She has also brown eyes but so different from Robbe. Robbe's eyes give him hope while her eyes want to make him scream. 

'Please, Sander? I know I am being horrible right now but I can't help it.'

Despite all the makeup on her face, she looks terrible. Small red eyes, you can still see the bags, even a few pimples on her usually spotless face. Her lips pushed into a small and thin line. I am just scared, okay? 

for me, it is also unexpected.'

She lets out a shaky breath.

'I am not justed to not be independent, but that is not an excuse. I know I should thank you one my bare knees.' 

How does she do it? 

Sander is really wondering that. Who can she make him feel like a villain? When he knows he has done nothing wrong. 

The girl has a gift for manipulation. 

'Okay,' he murmurs while he gets off the bed. 'See you tomorrow then?'

She wants to kiss him, but Sander turns his head. 

'None of that. We are not together.' 

Britt sallows but nods. 'Right, not like I want that or anything. Relationships are bullshit.' 

Her hands are shaking and her eyes get watery. 

'You were going to leave right?'

Sander is confused for a second. Britt and he were never in love so why is she so upset? Perhaps the hormones and stress. 

He sits in a car for a while, debating what he is going to do. No, he knows what he is going to do but how is the question. 

How is he going to tell his boyfriend that he is going to be a father and probably is going to marry? 

A part of him wants to lie, take the easy way but that is going to ruin things for sure. 

Robbe will never forgive him. 

He let his head fall against the wheel. What a fucking mess. Why did this have to happen? Why couldn't have Britt with a week before telling him? Then it wasn't his problem anymore but now.

Sander can't help but feel bad for the girl. Rich girls have it way rougher than rich guys. He has seen by Clarissa. 

Boys can fuck around with however they want. Do they get a girl pregnant? Just pay her to shut up and never look back. 

Bad publicity? That is just boys being boys. 

Cheating? Well, then it is the girlfriend's fault because she wasn't enough. 

The hypocrisy makes him sick. 

He can't just let Britt fall. She will not survive without her family and her fortune. 

And she was right. She would have done the same for him. 

Sander doesn't even want to think about the child. 

The poor child whose birth will be a scandal in the eyes of the world. It reminds him of Amber. 

He can't bear the thought of letting the baby grow up with so much shame. 

Britt is nineteen. She is not ready to be a mother, now there will be nanny's to raise the child. 

The artist takes a deep breath.

He is going to drive to Robbe's house and then he will improvise. A speech or something won't work this time. 

The drive feels so much shorter than usually. 

Sander's hands are shaking. He can't control his nerves

It takes him a solid ten minutes to get out of the car and go over to his boyfriend's apartment. 

He takes a deep breath before he rings the bell. 

'Hello?' 

'It is me, baby. Can you open the door?'

There sounds a buzzer and the door to the hallway flies open. 

Maybe he should take the stairs? 

Sander shakes his head. He needed to do this now. 

The elevator takes his time while the ache in his stomach gets more intense. 

He starts to bite his fingernails. 

As soon as the door of the elevator flies open, Robbe jumps on him. 

He gets pulled into a hug by his boyfriend. 

'I got it' the smaller boy whispers in his ear. 'I fucking got it.' 

The artist can't keep up. 'Huh?' 

Robbe pulls his head slightly back so that they can look into each other eyes.

'I got the fucking scholarship.' 

Sander tries to put on a convincing smile. 'Wow, that is amazing! Good to hear!' 

The younger boy let go of him. 'You are not happy?'

'No!, No, I am over the moon. I just didn't realise that you would hear it so quick. ' 

Robbe's cheeks are red with excitement. 'I know right? I can't believe. I am going to fucking New York with you! They even pay for my flight and a dorm.' 

the brown-haired boy kisses his lover. 'I don't know how to thank you without you this would never have happened.' 

'We should celebrate. Are you free this evening?'

Robbe nods 'yeah.' 

'We are going to the cottage. You and me.' 

'Okay, let me put on some shoes first.' 

The smaller boy trips over the doorstep and hits toes against the door. 

'Ouch, fucking hell.' 

Sander feels a small smile appear on his face. He loved this clumsy boy unconditionally. No matter what was going to happen tonight. Robbe had a special place in his heart. There would never be someone else. 

'Why is the door open? Oh, hey Sander.' 

Noor gives him a little wave which he returns. 

'I assume that Robbe knows you are here?' 

'Yes, we are going somewhere together.' 

The girl nods. 

'Have you told him the truth yet?'

'Yes.'  _ No _

'That is good to hear. So the engagement is off?' 

Sander wonders if she can read minds.

'It is complicated.' 

'Oh,' Noor bites her lip. 'I thought-?'

'I am ready let's go.'

Robbe is practically bouncing. 'What are you so excited about?' 

'I got a scholarship to a medication school in New York.'

The girl's mouth falls open. 'Why don't I know this? How did you to manage to do that?' 

The brown-haired boy points to Sander. 'He put in a good word for me.' 

'Paying a lot of money, alright I see how this works. He is almost like a sugar daddy.' The girl winks. 

'What?'

Robbe's smile fades from his face.

'Not true, Noor. He did it all by himself. You live with him, you should know he is a bloody genius.' 

The girl's face gets red. 'I am sorry, I -'. 

'Don't worry, come cutie lets go.' 

Sander takes his hand. 

Robbe has become quite. 

'I am so proud of you.' 

The artist wants to kiss him but his boyfriend turns his face. 

'Did you pay for me to get into that school?' 

'What no? It doesn't work like that.' 

Two big brown eyes are staring at him. 'You told me about people in your high school bribing the teachers.'

'That is different. This is a university, you can't buy your place.'

'Sander.' 

The older boy let out a sigh. 'Okay, maybe you can but I didn't. I swear I didn't.' 

'For real?' 

Sander gives him a soft kiss. 'For real. It wouldn't be necessary anyway. You are so fucking smart.'

Robbe giggles and a blush appears on his cheeks. 

'I love you, Sander.'

'I love you too.' 

The smaller boy hugs him. 

Sander closes his eyes. _ Fuck Fuck Fuck _

'They asked if I wanted to start in February or August. I have to say it officially before next weekend, but I think August. It gives me the time to finish school here first and to arrange everything probably. I am not sure how I am going to tell everybody.' 

'One by one. You don't disappear, you just move. It is not like you never are coming back, right?' 

'I suppose so.' 

Robbe intertwines the fingers as they walk to the car.

'I still can't believe it.' 

The boy lets out a relieved sigh. 

'You and me in New York' he whispers. 

Sander feels horrible. It feels like his stomach is filled with brick. He doesn't want to crush his boyfriend mood. He doesn't want to end the dream. 

'What are we going to do at the cottage? Just chill right? I still need to some homework. What about you? Do you get homework and what kind of homework then?' 

'Mostly reading things about art history or trying new techniques.'

'Interesting, do you have a favourite area of painting?' 

'It depends on my mood. Sometimes I fucking love an area and sometimes I despise it. 

'Okay, what is your favourite area right now at this moment?' 

'Abstract expressionism.'

'Huh?'

'Jackson Pollock?'

'That dude who just threw buckets of paint against the canvas?'

The artist snorts. 'Yeah sure, you little uncultured philistine.'

'English, please? But why?'

'My thoughts feel like that.' 

A frown appears on Robbe's face. 'What do you mean?'

'Nothing, we need to buy some food first. Where can we do that?'

The younger boy gives him a suspicious glare.

'In the supermarket?' 

Ah, supermarket. Sander can't remember if he has ever been there. He knows the concept and stuff, but that is about it.

'Where is one?' 

'Around five minutes away. We could just have walked.'

The artist shrugs. 'Why walks when we can drive?' 

Turns out Sander fucking loves supermarkets. They have almost everything. 

Robbe has to stop him from throwing everything into their shopping cart. 

'Sander, why would we need that? Put it back.'

The artist is looking at a massive bottle of fabric softener.

'This is sick. So you just put this on your clothes and it gets soft?'

The younger boy shakes his head laughing. 

'No, it doesn't work like that. You have to put in the washing machine to make sure they don't get stiff and uncomfortable.' 

'That is so sick' the older boy repeats. 

Robbe shakes his head. 

'Well, you can do the washing when we live together then.' 

Bam, Sander feels like he has been slapped back into reality. 

He takes a deep breath. 

'What is going on with you?' 

Robbe gives him a worried look. 

'Every time I say something about New York you look like you have seen a ghost.'

The artist doesn't know what to say. 

'Sander?'

The older boy shakes his head. 'I will explain it.' 

'You know that we don't have to go right? If you don't want to.'

'I want to go. There is just something I need to tell you first. 

Robbe expression changes.

'I thought you had told me everything?'

'I have, I have but something has changed. Nothing to worry about. I will tell you when we are at the cottage.'

Something snaps in the artist's head. 

It is like he is floating. Something has let him go as if the strings attached him to earth were cut. 

He feels like screaming but he has no voice. 

They drive in silence towards the cottage. There is too much noise in Sander's head.

It hurts him to see how confused his boyfriend is. 

The younger boy intertwines their fingers when Sander speeds up on the highway. 

'We are going too fast. Slow down.' 

The artist shakes his head. 

He likes driving fast. The way he is being pushed back into his chair, the sound of the car, the idea of leaving everything behind. 

It gives him a feeling of power and control. 

It makes the noises in his head, less present.

'Sander.' 

The older boy presses the accelerator harder.

What if he ended it right now? 

Robbe would never find out the truth. His kind and loving heart would never be broken. 

Sander wouldn't have to raise a child that wasn't his. 

They wouldn't lose what they had. 

It was selfish to decide for Robbe, but he would his heart get broken anyway. This would be an easy and less painful way. 

They would die happy. 

'Sander, you got to stop' the voice of his boyfriend is calm. 

Too calm to stop the other voices. 

Hopefully, they would be in heaven together. 

The artist was sure his angel would be. He sends one last prayer. 

_ Let us be happy together  _

He pushes his feet down with full force. 

The car makes a protesting sound. 

Sander feels sorry for his car. It had done nothing wrong to punished, but he had no choice. 

Suddenly there was another noise. 

It was calming Sander down. 

The voice of David Bowie filled his ear singing the chorus of is  _ heroes. _

A soft finger is stroking his arm. 

'Do you remember when we listened to this song for the first time. We were sitting on the balcony. It was the middle of the night. You had just kissed me for the first time.' 

Sander is hesitating. 

Why is this voice talking to him so gently? 

'Sander, you have to use the break now.'

_ Now. _

Life is right now. 

That is what Robbe told him after they first kissed. 

Life is now. 

It is not over yet. 

He pulls the car into a parking spot suddenly that almost hits his head against the wheel. 

He starts to cry uncontrollably.

Two arm hands hold his face gently. 

'It is okay. We are fine.' 

Robbe embraces him as far that is possible in a car seat. 

'It is okay, baby.'

Soft kisses are being pressed against the side of his head. 

They sit in silence for a while until Sander founds the courage to look up. 

His boyfriend has a bloody nose. 

The artist reaches out to touch it. 

There is also blood on the dashboard. 

Robbe takes his hand. 

'It is okay.' 

'I don't know what happened.' 

'Don't worry, we are fine now.' 

'I almost killed us.' 

'Sander that is not true. We were not going that fast.' 

'I thought about it. I don't know what happened' he repeats. 

He pushes the car door open. He wants to get out right now. 

The fresh air helps him. 

He takes a deep inhale. 

Robbe wraps his arm around it. 

Sander feels safe. 

It is going to be okay. 

They are alive. 

The artist doesn't know how they got to the cottage. he doesn't remember walking. As soon as they arrive, Robbe tucks him in bed. 

'Get some sleep, baby.'

The boy kisses him softly. 

Sander feels tears streaming down his cheeks. 

'Stay with me.' 

The younger boy crawls underneath the blankets and holds his lover. 

Sander lets out a shaky breath and closes his eyes. He scared himself tonight. 

'I wanted us to die.' 

'Why?' 

'That is the only way we could be happy together.' 

'Sander, that is not true. We can be happy together. Right here and right now.' 

The artist shakes his head. 'I am going to tell you something and it going to fuck everything up.' 

'We can handle it. You and me. Why don't you go and sleep now? I will be there when you wake up.' 

Sander squeezes his eyes and tries to shut everything out until he falls asleep.

* * *

'I made croques.' 

A very proud Robbe is standing in front of him. 

'I am not sure if I did it the way you did it though.' 

'They are going to be amazing anyway.' 

The younger boy gives him a small grin. 'I have put my secret ingredient in it.'

'Which is?'

'Love.' 

Sander snorts. 

He has been awake for half an hour. His stomach started to rumble so Robbe decided to make some food. 

'How are you feeling?' 

The smaller boy hands him a croque.

'Better, I don't know what happened. I am so sorry.' 

'It was a side effect of your medication. If reinforced your already intense mood swings. I made an essay about it. It can happen after some sort of incident.' 

Sander nods. 

'Do you want to talk about it?' 

'I guess I have too.' 

'Or you can eat your croque.' 

The artist takes a bite. 'I can taste the love.' 

Robbe gives him a wink. 

'I knew it would work.' 

What was he doing? Why was he acting like nothing was wrong? The longer he would wait how harder it would get. He takes a deep breath.

'Robbe, I need to talk to you.' 

The younger boy nods and puts his plate down. 

'I am not going to break off the engagement with Britt. I am in fact even going to marry her.' 

Robbe's expression remains unreadable. 'Why?' 

'She is pregnant.' 

The boy across him starts to play with a loose string of a pillow. 

'I know this rough but-' 

'It is okay, Sander' his boyfriend interrupts him. 

'Robbe, it doesn't have to change anything between us. We can still go to New York.' 

Two big eyes are staring at him. 

'I know it is not ideal, but I promised Britt.'

The younger boy shakes his head. 

'I love you, but I can't let her fall now.'

'You did the right thing.'

'What?'

His lover stares at him. 'You took responsibility as you should. I am proud of you.' His voice sounds strange. 'Congratulations I guess.'

Suddenly Sander feels regret. Fuck this. 

'Let's run away together.' 

His boyfriend gives him a confused look. 

'Let's go right now. I have enough money to last us a lifetime. You and me.' 

It stays silent. 

'We can't Sander.' 

'Why not?' 

The younger boy is searching for words. 'Because we can't.' 

Sander shakes his head. 'Yes, we can.'

'A father should never leave his child behind.'

The words are hitting him like a truck. 

He remembers the message from Robbe's mother. 

_ -'You can't leave me as well.'- _

_ -You won't do the same as your father, would you?- _

Fuck. 

'Robbe-' 

'Sander, I know you love me and I love you but we need to end it.' 

The artist is lost for words. 

'We have to do it for the child.'

'Why?'

'It deserves two parents who love him or her. You have to try to make it work with Britt, for the child.' 

Robbe gets closer to him. 

'Promise me you will try.'

Sander's brain doesn't function. 

He just keeps staring into the two brown eyes of his boyfriend. 

'Promise me?' 

The artist is speechless. His brain doesn't process the words. He keeps staring at the beautiful face of his boyfriend. 

'Promise me you are going to try.'

His voice sounds so desperate that Sander does what he asks. 'I promise you' he says breathlessly. 

Robbe gives him a soft kiss on his forehead and stands up. 

'Where are you going?' 

'It is better this way, Sander. I know we both want to be with each other, but we can't.' 

Tears are streaming down on both their faces. 

'I am nothing without you. I need you, Robbe.' 

'You have me in another universe. Think about that. We are happy somewhere.' 

'You have to promise me one thing as well. You have to go to New York.'

The boy shakes his head. 'That was our plan.'

'You have to do it for me then I will try for you.' 

Robbe shakes his head again. 

'You don't have to try for me, you have to try for your baby.' 

Your child. 

Before Sander can tell him it isn't his child, the younger boy has disappeared. 

And Sander falls down in a deep black hole. 

* * *

Waking up can be really harsh, especially if your dreams are better than reality. The saddest part of it is, though, that eventually, even the memory of your dream will fade - if you are even lucky enough to remember it- that is it. Then you're left with this lonely feeling of detachment, left to explore in the empty void of emotions, the only proof that you ever had the dream, to begin with.

Robbe feels like a dream. 

Sander starts to think that he all imaged it. 

It has been almost two months since he saw his boyfriend or better said, ex-boyfriend. 

The only thing that reminds him is his necklace. 

His beautiful handmade necklace. 

The only proof of the fairytale his life was for three months. 

Robbe had blocked him on everything. 

In theory, Sander could go to his house, but he got the message. 

It was over between them. 

Well, it was over for Robbe. It will never be over the artist. 

There is no possibility for him to let the younger boy ever go.

People say that the times flies when you have fun. Sander has discovered it also happens when your life is falling apart. 

He didn't leave his room for four weeks straight. 

Food was delivered three times a day and left on his desk

Sometimes someone would come into his room to talk to him, but he always ignored them. 

Even a crying Britt 

Sander only left his room when Clarissa called him crying. Her water had broken, but she was home alone. Raphael was on a business trip. 

He had gotten in the car and called the midwife. 

Clarissa hated hospitals so she wanted to give birth at home. 

The delivery had taken almost ten hours. 

It was awful. His sister kept screaming. 

Sander was the first person to hold his nephew since Clarissa was exhausted. 

She had watched him rocking the baby gently. 

'A good look on you. Papa Sander.' 

The artist didn't know how quick he had given the baby back to his sister. 

Everyone was excited for him and Britt. Even Clarissa who didn’t realise that his relationship with Britt was fake.

They were going to marry in three weeks. 

Sander didn't see the point. 

Everyone would know that the baby was made well before the wedding, but he was too tired to fight. 

There was nothing worth to fight for when he didn't have Robbe at his side. 

After he had called his parents and Raphael to deliver the baby news he went back home. To his art room. 

He stared at the painting of his lover. The first one he had ever made. The one with the beautiful colour scheme. 

Sander couldn't believe it was already five months ago. He also couldn't believe it was only five months. 

Time moves slowly but passes quickly. 

Tears stream down his face when he grabs his necklace. 

If he only had Robbe with him to help him through the dark. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I need some advice. I don't know for how much longer I want to this story to continue for. I still have some ideas, but I am not sure if that is something you guys would want.  
> Otherwise, I am going to start a new fic in a few days after this one is finished. 
> 
> I have also written an explicit one shot and with explicate I mean explicit. (It is about Sander and Robbe of course.)  
> It was something I needed to get off my chest and writing about it helps.  
> The one-shot is dark and I'm not sure if I should upload.  
> I don't want to upset or trigger people. Please let me know what you think! 
> 
> Thanks for reading, the kudos and the lovely comments! It truly makes my day!


	9. Chapter eight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: mention of an abusive relationship.

Sander could think about a thousand places he would rather be right now. 

Basically anywhere where he didn't have to pretend to happy. 

To be excited about his wedding and the soon to be born baby girl. 

The wedding was in a few days. 

It was incredible how quickly his parents had arranged a wedding. 

They were discussing the details with Britt and her parents during dinner. 

Justine and Delly, Britt's mum, had organized everything and they were over the moon. Their dream was coming true. They had planned and fantasized

about this wedding in their heads since Britt was born. 

Their dads were also excited. Sander and Britt were a good match in their eyes for business The family name and company would continue with a child that had two rich parents. 

'Britt, don't eat so much fries. It is not good for you. If you don't watch out you don't fit in your dress anymore.' 

The entire evening her mother has picked on her. Why Britt wasn't wearing any heels, what happened with her hair, why is looked so miserable. This comment was one of many and Sander can see that something just snaps in the girl in front of him. 

She throws her plate behind her.

'Guess I will just not eat at all.' 

The conversation falls silent

Delly looks shocked. ' _ Britt!' _

The blond girl gives her mother a challenging look. 'What? A lady is not allowed to eat now?'

'Britt Ingelbrecht,-' 

'It is just the hormones, Delly' hushes Justine. 'Don't make a scene.' 

'Yeah mum, don't make a scene.'

Delly's mouth falls open and she gets red spots in her neck. 

'Young lady, listen to me very carefully. I don't care if you are pregnant or not-' 

'No, you don't. All you want this fucking baby and me to get married so that you can move up your social ladder.'

Delly takes a deep breath and forces a smile on her face. 'Sweetheart, all I want for you is that you are happy. You are happy now, aren't you?'

Britt takes a sip of her mother's wine. 'Well, I am glad you asked. I am in fact not happy.' 

'Don't drink that wine, child.' Justine tries to take the glass from her. 

'Now I am a child! I am so sick of this! I quit, I fucking quit.' 

She smashes the glass against the wall. 

It stays silent on the table. 

'Fuck you, mum. My entire life I have tried to please you but it is never enough and I am done. I don't care anymore.'

'Princess, this is not good for you-' her father tries to calm her down. 

'Oh, now you want to say something? You can also fuck off. Mum, he has cheated on you on multiple occasions and bribed me with gifts to shut up. He doesn't care about you or me. All he cares about is money and drugs.'

'Britt, now you have to listen-' 

The blond girl starts to shout. 'Now I have got to listen? I have listened to you my entire life. It is your fucking turn bitch.'

'What is that language?' 

'I am so done with all of you! Always pretending as if everything is okay. You think that the money gives you privileges, that you are better than the common people. I can tell you that you are fucking wrong for thinking that. Those people that are poor in your eyes have something that money can't buy. Fucking love. They don't marry their daughter off to a random guy because it benefits them! They care about each other and don't make a big deal when someone screws up because they realise that they are human! Not some plastic barbie dolls with zero emotion.'

Britt has started to cry. 

'Fuck all of you for making me believe love is not real. I have found true love and I am going to fight for it. Sander and I won't get married.'

Delly stands up and slams her fist on the table. 'You two are going to marry. We don't have come so far only for you to pull back at the last moment. You are pregnant for the love of God.'

'Well, Sander is not the fucking father of my child. Do you want to know who it is? Well, I can't tell you because I don't know. It can be multiple guys.'

Justine opens her mouth and stares at her son. A tear streams down her cheek. 

'Does that shock all of you? It shouldn't if you only have paid a little bit more attention to your children. Sander and I have never been in love. We only pretend in front of you so that we would be safe. So that we wouldn't get married to some damn stranger.' Britt's voice skips and she shakes her head.

She lets out a small laugh. 

'All those times I put on my coloured glasses. It was a sacrifice for the money but I am done. Money can't buy love and love is so much more worth. I have never felt more richer since I met her.'

This makes Sander lift his head that he kept down during this rage.  _ Her? _

Britt's bottom lip is trembling. 'I am so fucking done.' 

'Britt, we didn't realise-' Leo starts to talk but stops. Looking at his wife for support. 'It is fine if you like girls, sweetie. We don't care.' Justine tries to give her a small but it looks more like a grimace. 

The blond girl snorts. 'All you care about is her last name or what she does for a living. Well, she has her own tattoo shop.'

Delly looks like she is going to explode. 

'Ungrateful little brat' she hisses. 'I have given you everything.' 

'You never have given me the things I needed. I have realised that I started to behave like you. It was a wake-up call. I won't pretend for the rest of my life. I am quitting.' 

Britt pushes her chair back and walks out. 

Sander is shocked. He has no other words for it. What the hell did just happened? 

Delly wants to follow her daughter but gets stopped by her husband. 'Let her be for a second.'

Justine nods. 'It is the wedding stress and hormones. She can't help it. Britt will be back soon to apologize'

Sander can't believe this. 

Hadn't they heard what Britt just told him? 

Were they really that stupid? 

He tightens his fist. If Britt can do it so can he. 

'She won't come back and neither will I. You can all choke. Have fun with your fake fucking lives.' 

He pushes his chair back and walks towards his room.

He throws some art stuff and essentials in a big bag before he walks towards the garage. 

Britt is sitting on a bench in the garden. 

Her shoulders are shaking softly. 

Sander takes place next to her. 

'I am sorry, Sander.' 

The artist shakes his head. 'Don't be, I am proud of you.' 

'I just couldn't take it anymore. I just snapped and once I started I couldn't go back.' 

'I am glad you did. They deserve it.' 

'We deserve it. We deserve to live a happy life. A life that doesn't revolve around money and lies.'

It stays silent for a while. 

'Why have you never told me you liked girls? I told you about that I liked both. You also like guys right? Or at least me? You enjoyed the sex or did I-' 

Britt chuckles. 'That stress on your face. I like both, but I love only one.'

Sander snorts and shakes his head. 'Jesus, who even are you?' 

'I don't know yet, but I have the space to find out now.' 

'What is your plan?' 

'I am not sure. First I want the tell her that I can be with her for real.' 

'Does she know?' 

'She knows that I am pregnant and that I was going to marry you. It complicated our relationship, but yeah.' 

It stays silent for a while. 

'I know you had someone as well. What happened?' 

Sander shakes his head. 'I don't want to talk about it.' 

'You told him that you were going to be a father and it didn't work?'

The artist let out a sigh. 'Something like that.' 

It hurts to talk about. 

He misses Robbe so much. He grabs the cold metal on his chest and closes his eyes. 

'Why don't you go and fix things? You are free now. At least that is what I think.' She nods towards his bag. 

'I am not sure if it is a good idea.' 

Britt sighs. 'Sander, if you don't try you never know. What are you so scared of?' 

The older boy tugs his hair. 'That he will see who I really am.' 

'What is wrong with that?'

'It isn't pretty.' 

The girl next to him squeezes his hand. 'I have known since I was a baby. You are a good person, Sander. You are a real one.'

The artist shakes his head. 'I am not.'

'Yes, you are. The way you can get lost in art is only an example.'

Sander snorts. 'You always fucking hated it.' 

'I hated being with you or forced to be with you I should say. I was just mad that you had something you truly loved, that you had a talent for something.' 

'Jesus who are you and what have you done with Britt?'

She gives him a soft push and strokes over her round belly.

'What are you going to do?' 

'I will figure it out. I still have some money on my bank accounts which my parents can't touch. All I need is a small place to live and a job or something.' 

'I can give you some money if you want. I have enough and I already own companies. My parents can't take that away. Plus I still sell art.'

Britt shakes her head. 'I want to independent, but thanks for the offer.' 

'Don't be too proud to ask for help.'

She gives him a soft smile. 

'Do you want to be godfather?' 

Sander stands perplexed. 

'I mean you are not the real father and we are not together, but I would hate to never see you again. You are the closed thing to a friend that I have.'

'I would love that. We are still a team right?' 

The girl nods and nudges him with her elbow.

'I believe this is the first real conversation we ever had.' 

Sander chuckles 'Sadly I think that is true.' 

Britt phone rings. 'Fuck, I told her that I would come her way. I still need to call a cab. She stands up with a pained face and let out a sigh.

'I will drive you. Come on, let's get out of here.' 

* * *

Britt guides him the way and Sander gets a strange feeling in his stomach. 

'Did you say that the girl owned a tattoo-shop?'

The girl next to him nods. 

'Fuck what are the chances?' 

'You know her?'

'She has tattooed me before and we are friends sort off.'

'You and Noor? That doesn't surprise me. She loves art as much as you do.'

'How did this happen?'

Britt snorts 'That is a funny story you know. Do you remember that university party? Where we bumped into each other?'

Sander closes his eyes when he feels a pain in his chest. The party he went to with Robbe. 

'I don't remember seeing you?'

'That doesn't surprise me, you were shitfaced.'

'But you met her there?' 

The girl shakes her head. 'Nah, we met online. I was feeling a bit

rebellious a few months ago and wanted to know for sure that I liked girls. So that party was our second date. I got so scared when I saw you there. You caught me red-handed. What were you doing there anyway?' 

'Nothing.'

'You just happened to be in a place where you absolutely knew nobody?'

'I was with him.' 

Britt sighs. 'Just talk to him, Sander.'

'I don't think he wants to talk to me. I fucked it.' 

'There is still time to fix it.' 

'It is too late. He probably has moved on.'

'It is never too late. Sander, we were going to get married in three days and look at us now. You have to take the risk. Live may be over soon and then you will regret forever.' 

The brush over his hair to fix a strand. 'Be brave, Sander. I know you can be.' 

She gives him a soft kiss against his cheek. 'I will talk to you soon. Take care of yourself.' 

She steps out of the car and walks towards the familiar door. 

There is light on in the room of Robbe. If it still is the room of his ex-lover. Maybe he went to New York early. 

Sander can't help but stare to the window. 

He doesn't know how long he sits there. 

Suddenly something is moving. 

Someone is closing the curtains. 

The artist knows that it is impossible to see who it is but he just knows it is Robbe. He recognises the silhouette of the younger boy. 

The person behind the window stands still for a second. 

Sander holds his breath. 

Does he see the car? Does he know Sander is here? 

It feels like a century before the boy closes his curtains. 

Sander let out a deep sigh. 

So close yet so far. 

Would Robbe still think about him? Or has he already moved on? 

Over the past few weeks, the artist forbade himself to think about it because it gave him hope. 

A hope that was dangerous, but now everything has changed. 

They still make a chance in this universe as well. 

It is as if someone lights a fire in Sander's heart. The ache that never stopped when Robbe left is less present. 

Maybe they can be together. 

All Sander needs to do is stand up and walks towards the door. 

But he can't. He fucking can't

The fear of rejection is too big to overcome. 

Tears start to stream down his cheeks. 

If he was only brave enough right now. 

Sander is startled when his phone starts to ring. 

'Hello, Amber?'

'Is it true?'

'Depends on what you are talking about.'

'About the baby?'

'How do you know?'

'Dad wanted to know where you were and told me everything that had happened.' 

The older boy stays silent for a while. 

'I will take that as a yes. Fucking hell Sander why didn't you tell me?'

'I didn't know how.' 

'This explains so fucking much.'

'What does it explain?'

'Your behaviour and Robbe's.' 

'What is going on with Robbe's behaviour?' 

Now the girl stays silent. 

'Why don't you ask him that? 

'I don't know, Amber. I don't fucking know. Perhaps I am scared.' 

'What are you scared of?'

'You can better ask me what I am not scared of.'

'Okay, what are you not scared of?'

'Never being loved.'

'Huh?'

'Nevermind.' 

'Sander, come on-'

But the artist has already hung up. She won't understand him. How can he explain something when he doesn't even understand it? 

Sander's biggest fear was never being loved for the person he truly his. Robbe has taken away that fear but now the older boy has another biggest fear. Losing the love and it has already happened. 

Sander pulls his hair while he lets out a silent scream. 

* * *

He hadn't been at the cottage for a long time. The memories were too painful, but now they gave him some sort of comfort. 

Sander lives had turned upside down the past year. 

He met the love of his life and lost him.

He was going to be a father and then he wasn't.

He had a family and now he didn't.

He was destined for a life in captivity and now he was free.

Yet this place stayed exactly the same. 

It was a little dusty and dirty but that was okay. 

This place was his home. His real home where he didn't have to pretend. 

He could live here for the rest of his life. 

Drawing and painting the day away. 

Maybe it was lonely but the artist didn't care. The life of an artist was probably lonely anyway. 

Sander was thankful that he got to experience love. He was grateful for Robbe. Without the brown-haired boy, he probably would still be chained.

He hoped that the boy would find happiness. No one deserved it more than him. 

The bleached-blond boy was tired. 

Tired of everything. 

Pretending, acting, lying, crying, faking. 

He was done with it. Never again. 

No matter what happened, he was never going back. 

He let out a shaky breath before he walks upstairs. 

The bedroom is untouched. Sheets and pillows on the ground that Sander thrown out of his bed when he had felt suffocated. 

The hole in the drawer that Sander had punched when he realised it was over. 

Even the jumper of Robbe was there. 

It was the only thing that laid on the bed. 

Tears start to well up in his eyes. 

That damn jumper was the only thing he could hold on to that night. 

The smell of his boyfriend was the thing that kept him sane. 

Sander picks up the blankets and pillows. He shakes them on the balcony to get rid of the dust. 

After that, he collapsed on the bed. 

Clinging on to the jumper as if is his life depended on it. 

* * *

Sander is sure he is dreaming. 

Or he is dead. 

One of the two because there is no way this really happening. 

A beautiful angel is staring at him. 

The sun makes his skin shine and gives it a golden glow. 

His brown and curly hair sits messily what makes it look like he is wearing a halo. 

Fuck, it even looks like he has wings. 

The angel is sitting on a chair, biting his fingernails. He has a nervous expression. 

What can a beauty like him be nervous about?

Sander wants to take him into his arms and tell him that everything was going to be okay but he was too tired. 

He closes his eyes again until he realises. 

'Robbe?' 

The boy in the chair startles. 'Did I wake you up? Sorry I didn't want to do that.'

Sander rubs in his eyes but it is really happening. 

His lover is standing in front of him. 

'What-? '

The artist is so confused that he doesn't know what to say. 

Robbe bites his lip. 

'You were right.'

'Huh?'

A small smile appears on the younger boy's face. 

'I am really bad at assuming things.'

Sander snorts. What the hell is going on?

'I thought we already established that when we first met?'

'Yeah but now I know it for sure. I am sorry, Sander.' 

Sander. 

The artist squeezes his eyes together for a second. How he has missed this soft voice. 

'I thought we also agreed that you shouldn't apologize so much?

'I should apologize right now.' 

'Why? You have done nothing wrong?' 

Robbe shakes his head. 'I have done everything wrong.' 

'What do you mean?'

'I was being selfish.'

Sander snorts. 'You are the least selfish person I have ever met.' 

'That is not true.' 

'Robbe, I don't blame you for anything. You have done nothing wrong.'

The younger boy shakes his head. 'I should have stayed with you.' 

'I don't blame you for leaving.' 

'You should.' 

The artist can't keep up and stares in confusing at the most beautiful boy he has ever seen. 

Robbe's hair is longer so his curls are even wilder. It is a good look. He has also grown a little bit. The hoodie is wearing fits him better than two months ago. 

'We loved each other and I walked away. I promised you that we would get through it and then I walked away. 

His voice is trembling. 

'Robbe, that was your right. I might have done the same if I was standing in your shoes.' 

A tear rolls down the cheek of the younger boy. 

'I just got scared.' 

'That is okay.' 

'No, it wasn't.' 

'Why were you scared?'

'I thought the child was yours. I felt guilty against the child. I was the thing ruining his or her chance of a happy family. My father left me and I know what kind of pain that leaves behind. I couldn't live with that thought that it would happen to another kid because of me.’ 

Sander is speechless. 

'I never thought about your feelings. Only about my own guilt. I am sorry.'

'Please come over here.'

The older boy lifts the blankets to invite the other boy who bites his lip. 

'Sander, I-' 

'Shh, just come here.' 

Robbe gets underneath the blankets and hides his face in the neck of the artist. 

Sander closes his eyes. He wants to capture this feeling forever. The body of the younger boy presses against him. 

He wraps his arm around his angel and holds him as tight as possible.

'Why did you never say the child wasn't yours?' 

Robbe's voice sounds muffled. 

'I was too late. You were already gone and after that, I didn't want to bother you. It was not fair. How could I expect from you that you would stay with me when I was married to someone else?' 

'I should have stayed.' 

'Robbe, please look at me.' 

Two brown teary eyes stare at him. 

'It is okay that you left. It really is. You didn't own me anything and you still don't. I knew you loved me and that is enough' 

'I still do.' 

'I still love you too.' 

Both boys start to smile. 

'I am sorry.'

'Stop apologizing. It is okay.'

'I feel guilty for so many reasons.'

Sander start caresses the brown curls. 'Please don't. If someone should feel guilty it is me.' 

'You have no reason to feel guilty.' 

'Neither do you.' 

Robbe let out a sigh. 'I have underestimated and prejudiced you from the beginning. I thought you only cared about yourself while you have the biggest heart that ever has existed.'

'That is bullshit.' 

'No, it is not Sander, no other guy would claim a child that wasn't his to protect a girl.' 

'What else could I do?'

'You could have done so many things. Expose her, let her fall and who knows what else.' 

Sander feels slightly uncomfortable. 'What I did is what a decent human would do. I could have done so much more.' 

'Why are you talking yourself down? You are a good person, Sander.' 

'No, I am not. I am a rich privileged asshole. Robbe, you don't even know half of the fucked up stuff I did. ' 

'But you try not to be one and that makes the difference. You acknowledge mistakes and you learn from them. That is something I and many others can't do. Do you think that I don’t notice all the little things you do? Cooking for me, generous tipping to hard-working people, making a drawing for me, asking me how I am doing and I can name a thousand more. '

Robbe's fingertip traces the other boy's chest and pulls the shirt a little bit down. 'You have a good heart and that is what matters. '

The smaller boy places his lips on the exposed skin. 

'I love you.' 

'Even with my messed up brain that sometimes short circuit?' 

'How can you doubt that? You deserve to be loved without having to hide the parts of yourself that you think are unlovable.’

‘So you also don’t care if I am not that rich anymore?’

‘I only want you, Sander. Money is worthless compared to you.'

'Smooth.' 

Robbe gives him a wink. 'I learned from the best.'

Sander traces the bottom lip from the boy that lays on top of him. 

He still can't believe this is happening. 

'Can I kiss you?' 

The artist smiles. 'You never have to ask that, cutie.' 

The younger boy rolls his eyes before he leans in. 

It is a soft and slow kiss. 

The older boy let a satisfied sigh. It feels like coming home. 

He glides his hands underneath the shirt of the lover. 

Robbe shivers. 

Sander sits up straight against the headboard and places the knees of his boyfriend next to his waist so that the weight of Robbe's is in his lap. The younger boy whimpers softly when he grinds his hips down. 

The artist takes off the shirt of his boyfriend. 

Fucking hell he was hot. 

Sander let his finger trace over the solid biceps from his lover. 

His chest was more muscular than Sander remembered. 

'Have you been working out?'

Robbe gives him a shy grin. 'Good way to release some bottled up emotions. 

The artist chuckles. 'I happen to know another way. 

The brown-haired boy starts to suck the neck of the older boy. 

'Tell me.' 

Sander let out a moan when his lover bites his neck softly. 

'I would rather show you.'

* * *

They had both fallen asleep. 

Soft curls tickling in his neck had woken Sander up. 

The younger boy still laid on top of him, sleeping peacefully 

They hadn't moved at all. 

The artist grimaced when he felt something cold and sticky on his stomach. Fuck. 

Sander shivered when a gust of wind passed over him. 

The window was open and it was raining outside. 

He tried to find the blankets without moving but he didn't succeed. 

Fuck where were those damn things? Probably pushed on the ground in the heat of the moment. 

The older boy was debating what he should do until he saw goosebumps all over the body of his lover. So he decided to wake the other boy up. 

'Robbe cutie, wake up.' 

He presses a soft kiss against the temple of the brown-haired boy who opens his eyes slowly and blinks a few times. 

A smile appears on his face when he looks at the other boy. 'It wasn't a dream' he whispers. 

Sander shakes his head. 'You and me in this universe.' He strokes the brown curls. 

Robbe opens his mouth but closes it. A look of disgust appears on his face. 

'Definitely not a dream.'

The younger boy wants to roll off his boyfriend but their skin sticks together. 

'This is absolutely disgusting.' Robbe cringes when he pulls the skin apart. 

They look into each other eyes before they burst out in laughter. 

'You weren't saying that a few hours ago.' 

The smaller boy rolls his eyes. 'It has gone cold now. It is fucking horrible.' 

Sander gives him a peck on the lip 'join me for a bath then?'

'Best idea you ever had.' 

The water was somewhat too hot for Sander liking, but Robbe preferred it that way. 

Apparently, the brown-haired boy enjoyed the feeling of his skin on fire. 

The younger boy was laying in his arms. 

They were talking about everything that had happened over the past few weeks. 

Sander told him about his nephew who had been born and Robbe talked about Milan's new boyfriend. 

It was as if they never had been apart. 

'I met Britt only yesterday. Wait that is not true, I met her before but yesterday I realised she was the Britt. She told Noor everything that had happened and she told me again then I came here to talk to you but you were sleeping so yeah. I also thought I saw your car last night but I wasn't sure.' 

'That was my car.' 

'I fucking knew it. I wish I would have gone downstairs to talk to you.' 

Sander kisses the back of his lover's head. 'It doesn't matter now anymore. We are back together.'

Fingers start to stroke his arm and a soft kiss is pressed against his shoulder. Robbe glides a bit down so he can put his head on the chest of the artist. 

The smaller boy makes a sound of satisfaction when Sander wraps his arms around him. 

It stays silent for a while. Both boys are enjoying the warm bathwater and each other presence. 

There is only one thing Sander can't get off his mind. 

Robbe has some small scars on his back. The artist has never noticed that before. 

'What are these?' 

The older boy traces lightly the marks on his boyfriend's back. 

The boy in his arms freezes and Sander can feel his muscles tense up. 

'Nothing, just something stupid I did as a child.' 

The voice of the younger boy sounds off and Sander just knows he is lying. 

'You don't have to tell me. I was just wondering.' 

The artist tries to smooth his boyfriend by massaging his broad shoulders. 

But the other boy doesn't relax. 

'It is just a long story and I just want to forget about it.'

'That is okay, baby but you can tell me if you want.' 

A brief silence 

'Maybe I want to tell you but I am scared of your reaction.' 

Sander wraps his arms tighter around his lover. 'Don't be scared.' 

'I don't want you to think differently about me or that you are going to treat me like something fragile. Maybe I am just overreacting or a wimp. '

'I will never judge you and you know that. '

Robbe lets out a shaky breath. 'I have never told anybody. I don't know how to start.' 

'By the beginning, angel. Take your time.'

'I was fourteen years old when my father left me and my mother. It changed my life completely. My mother is the sweetest person in the world but she couldn't take care of me. She couldn't even take care of herself. My father left because he had met somebody else and because he couldn't deal with my mother anymore. I have told you that she has schizophrenia, right.' 

'Yes, you also told me she was hospitalised.' 

'Yeah, that was a year later. My mother didn't want to acknowledge that my father wouldn't come back. She drove herself completely nuts. I have been awake for whole nights making sure she wouldn't hurt herself. At the time I was also dating Noor. Yes, I know don't ask me why' the brown-haired boy adds when Sander chuckles. 

'It was a very confusing time. I didn't understand why I couldn't make it work until I got a crush on Jens. I figured I was gay and broke up with her.'

'She has told me that.' 

'You two have talked about me?' 

'Only good stuff don't worry. Continue with your story if you want.'

'My mother got worse every day and I didn't know how to help her. I felt helpless and also a bit lonely at the time. The only thing my friends were talking about was girls and sex. They were topics I can't talk about because I didn't know anything about it

So I went to look for some company online. I was innocent back then. I thought guys on Grindr were looking for a relationship.'

'Well, it must have been a blast to find the truth out.' 

Robbe nods. 

'I had five dates before I realised that is was never going to work. They only wanted to sleep with me and didn't give a shit about a relationship. Most of them even had girlfriends. I had given up hope until K-kyle.' 

The younger boy stutters the last sentences. 

'I know how wrongs it sounds but I needed someone who would replace my dad, someone would take care of me. My mother was only getting worse and I just desperately someone I could talk to and who would give me the affection that I needed.

Kyle did that. 

He was so gentle with me. He would give me everything in the beginning without asking anything in return. 

There was some age difference between us. He had told me he was twenty-three but I found later out that he was twenty-six. 

I couldn't care less. 

Kyle was perfect in my eyes.' 

Robbe sighs. 

'When my mother was hospitalized I moved in with him. I didn't have to pay rent or anything. The first week it was like a dream come true. I would come home to someone who would ask how my day was or if I was hungry, shit like that but living with someone also reveals a lot about a person. Kyle drunk a lot of alcohol, sometimes he didn't even come home and his friends were douchebag towards me. 

I tried to talk to him about it but just laughed. He told me I was clingy and jealous. 

After two months of living together, I didn't recognise him anymore. 

The gently Kyle was gone.' 

The younger boy stops with talking. 

'I shouldn't tell you this. It is in the past and I am over it.' 

Sander gives his boyfriend in a kiss on his head. 'It is okay to talk about. I think it is good for you.'

'Kyle wanted me to pay him back for living with him. Not with money but other stuff. It turned out he was a fan of some kinky shit. I was barely sixteen. I was still busy figuring out my own body what I liked and what I didn't. I couldn't keep up with him, but he had already run out of patience. Everything started to go downhill from there. Kyle was cheating on me with other people. I tried again to talk to him about it and he suggested that I joined him when I refused he told me I was boring. In the bedroom and outside.'

Sander lets out a whistle. 

'That boy has guts to say something like that.' 

'I didn't have anywhere to go. My mum was still in the institution and our house was being rented out. I didn't have any money so I looked for a job. 

That was when I started working in the institution first I would get some money but after budget cuts, they couldn't afford to pay any more so I stayed as a volunteer. It made me happy to help people and I had an excuse to get away from Kyle. 

It wasn't until Noor looked for a new roommate that I saw my chance to get out for good. 

The only issue was that I still had no money so I pushed my pride away and went looking for my dad. 

He was remarried and live in the countryside. I stayed over at his place for two days and he didn't ask me once how I was doing. The only thing he wanted to talk about was his new son who was perfect in his eyes. 

My dad and I always had a rocky relationship. I was not the type of son his wished for or something. I looked too much like my mother, too soft.' 

Sander makes a sound. 

'You are literally perfect. How can not everyone love you unconditionally?'

Robbe snorts. 'You are something else, you know that?'

The older boy gives him another kiss on his head. 'Continue your story please.' 

'Long story short, my dad didn't want to give me any money. I should be able to take care of myself. I remember feeling completely numb on the train ride back. I had just lost my last hope. 

I was working on a project together with Amber at that time and she noticed that something was going on. We started to talk to each other. She told me about her home situation, not everything otherwise I would have known about you, just the part of her mother who had just passed away. I told her about Kyle and she offered me money. 

At first, I didn't want to take it but we agreed it was a loan. 

I was so happy. I had found a way out. Kyle turned mad when I told him I was going to leave. 

He believed he owned me because he had done so much for me. Kyle went completely nuts when I tried to walk out. 

I walked away in the night when he was sleeping and never turned back.

He has tried to contact me a lot these past two years. I have blocked him on everything, but he keeps making new accounts.' 

'Was that the reason why you was so cautious when we first met?' 

Robbe nods.

'I thought that you maybe were a friend of him or something. You were very mysterious.'

'But what are these scars then?' 

The younger boy turns around so that they can look into each other eyes. 

'Just a reminder of his little fantasies.' 

Sander's mouth falls open and he turns the boy around so that he can look at his boyfriend's back again. 

'Jesus christ Robbe.' 

'It is okay now. It feels like a bad dream now.' 

'This is not okay-'

Robbe kisses him to shut him up. 

'I am okay with it now. I mean it. Amber has helped me a lot.' 

Sander opens his mouth but his lover interrupts him. 

'I don't want to look back anymore. I don't want to get stuck in the past. Life is now. You and I that is what I want to think of.'

'Because we are the future.'

'Yes, we are.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter to go after this one.
> 
> I want to thank you for all the lovely messages I received on the last chapter. It made me genuinely really happy! It is so nice (and also kind of funny) to read your theories. Especially when I have another plan but all your suggestion makes me want to write them but I am sticking to my original plan for this fic. 
> 
> I hope everyone has a lovely day!


	10. Epilogue

**_The story_ **

_Trouble in the paradise?_

_Yesterday we spotted the well-known artist Sander Driessen-Ijzermans (31 y/o) busy with moving out of the stunning apartment in New York where he lives with his husband doctor Robbe Driessen-Ijzermans (28 y/o) who was nowhere to be seen._

_Is the couple splitting up?_

_This is not the first time that break-up rumours sparkle around the Driessen-Ijzermans household._

_The artist was spotting being cosy with his ex-fiancé early this year._

_His ex-fiancé Britt Ingelbrecht (who is also in a long-term relationship) and Sander have an interesting history. They were expecting a child together but in the end, it turned that the child wasn't from the artist._

_We don't how it affected their relationship._

_The wedding of the two young love-birds was cancelled and we know from some inside information that their families weren't happy._

_The incident would have caused a rift in the Driessen household. The artist left his family home and went to live in New York with his new partner, at the time college student Robbe Ijzermans._

_Sander and Robbe have been dating for almost ten years. Soon it will be their third wedding anniversary._

_An insider is saying that it is 'bullshit' that they are splitting up but we are not sure._

_Why was Sander Driessen moving out on his own? Does he perhaps need space in his 450 square meters luxury apartment? Or is the doctor to busy with his work?_

_Let just hope that the lovely couple can figure things out!_

'Have you heard?'

A younger man was laying his head on the shoulder of the artist. 'Hmm?' 

'We are breaking-up again.'

'Oh, no not again. I could have used a warning, Sander. What happened between us? Did I cheat this time?’' 

Robbe lets out a yawn and snuggles his head closer in the crease of the neck from the older men.

'Nope, I was moving out on my own.' 

The younger men sit up straight again. 'Excuse me? On your own? I did all the hard and heavy work. I carried that damn heavy painting of you to the ground floor because it didn't fit in the elevator. All on my fucking own! Five floors! My muscles still hurt. The only thing that you were doing was putting random things in boxes and pretending to be busy.' 

'Sorry babe, it stands here. So it must be true. I was all on my own.'

Robbe rolls his eyes and put his head back. 

'I can't believe that we are going back.'

'Are you in doubt?' 

The younger man shakes his head. 

'It is good for us I think. We are not the type of people to live in a busy city the rest of our lives'

'You really don't mind working in a smaller hospital?' 

Robbe shifts his head to that he can look at his lover. 'No Sander, I can still do the shit that I want. We have talked about it a million times. Don’t worry.' 

Sander presses a kiss against his forehead. 'I know but I feel like-' 

'Shh, we are going back to Antwerp. We can't turn back now.' 

'We can always turn back.'

'Yeah but not now. I am tired.' 

The older man starts to caress the brown curls. 'Go to sleep then cutie. We will be there in a few hours'

'Hmm, please wake me up if the plane crashes. I want to tell you that I love you when that happens.' 

Sander sighs. 

'That was fucking one time five years ago! Leave me alone! You don't have to remind every damn time. I thought we were going to die and I just wanted to let you know that I love you.' 

Robbe gives him a wink. 'Such a romantic man. Any last words for now?' 

'You are annoying little shit.' 

'Now I can die in peace.' 

Sander nudges the younger man. 

It doesn't take long before his husband starts to breathe regularly and the weight of his head increases. 

The artist stares at his gorgeous lover. 

Fucking 10 years together. Who would have thought that when they first met? 

They both knew they were meant for each other but there were some obstacles on the way. 

But it doesn't matter now anymore. 

They have been married for almost three years and have built up a beautiful life together. 

It had been a good decision to move to New York. Getting away from all the attention in Belgium. 

The media was gone wild when the wedding between him and Britt was cancelled. 

When the papers found out he wasn't the father of the child it became almost impossible to live a normal life. 

Everywhere they went there were news reporters. 

It had caused some tension between him and Robbe but as soon as they were left alone it was all gone. 

Settling in New York was easier then Sander had expected. 

The younger man enjoyed his new school so that helped. 

Sander continued with art. It was slightly more difficult without his parent's network but he had managed it. 

Sometimes they both would get homesick. Missing their friends back in Belgium, missing the peace and quietness of Antwerp, Robbe missed his mum, they missed the fries and the big pints of beer.

But in the end, it didn’t matter where they were because they were each other's home. 

Wherever Robbe was, that was the place were Sander wanted to be. 

The artist lets out a sigh. 

He was ready for a new chapter in their lives. They were proper adults now.

It was Sander's idea to move back to Antwerp. 

He loved living in New York but not for the rest of his life. It wasn't a place to get old. 

They had thought about moving somewhere else. Canada, Australia, England even Singapore had crossed their minds. But they came to the conclusion that they wanted to go back to Antwerp. 

The place where they were born, the place where everything began. 

Both had hesitated because there were also a lot of bad memories in Belgium but, in the end, they didn't care. 

Antwerp was their place. 

The last months had been busy. 

It was difficult to arrange everything from the other side of the world. 

They had decided that they were going to live in the cottage after a renovation and Robbe demanded that there would be a proper pad towards the house. 

Sander had completely lost himself in the project. 

The house needed to be perfect for them both.

He was happy with the end result. 

The artist scrolls through his phone a little bit. He is already bored and they aren’t even flying for an hour. 

He re-reads a message Senne sent him earlier. 

**_The New York Times_ **

_Life-changing breakthrough?_

_There is a new breakthrough in the study of mental disorders._

_Doctor Robbe Driessen-Ijzermans (_ New York University School of Medicine) _has discovered a new kind of medication that may be the key for many people for who don't respond to ‘normal’ treatment._

_The medicine has less chemical components which cause less side effects._

_It is also not a pill._

_The medicine is more like a powder which you would have to mix with a liquid._

_This has been criticized by colleagues of doctor Driessen-Ijzermans because it wouldn't be as effective._

_The medication is still being tested but the prospects are looking good._

_The young, soon to be professor, is an expert in the field of mental illness._

_He has early this year published research about psychiatric medication use for children and adults targeted overmedication, long-term negative effects, medicating real individual and family problems, and personality blunting._

_Doctor Driessen-Ijzermans has found prove that most adults and children are being overmedicated and that these medications have a long-term negative developmental impact, that they turn humans into "zombies," and that they get in the way of "real" solutions to the behaviour problems._

-Tell your boy that I am proud of him. Can't wait to see you again tomorrow. -

Sander feels a smile appearing on his face. 

Senne was a real one. The boy hadn't blinked an eye when the artist walked away from home. He was worried but he didn't care about Sander's family. 

Senne was proud of him for choosing his own path. 

They kept in contact over the past few years. It was nice to see him now and then. He was still together with Zoë. Their relationship had really taken off and they were both happy now. 

Zoë and Robbe had also become friends. The first time they saw each other it just clicked between them. 

The four of them had been on a lot of double dates. 

Sander had already read the article about his husband. 

Words didn't do it justice how proud he was. 

Robbe had worked so hard and he had come so far. He had achieved his dreams.

After the younger man had graduated he had started to work in a hospital. He wanted to gain some field experience. At the same time, he started to study again. 

It was incredible how much knowledge his lover had.

He had already helped so many people. 

Sometimes Sander was worried that his partner worked too much. 

He would come home late and would continue working. He took his job very personally. 

It had caused some tension between them, but they had learned how to communicate over the years. The way to adulthood had been difficult. Both boys were still trying to figure themself out. 

Their lives were turned upside down but they managed. 

They always managed in the end. 

* * *

'Look who we have there.' 

A beautiful young girl with a lightly coloured skin and black curls runs towards him and jumps in his arms. 

'It that Mia? I almost didn't recognize you. Since when are you so big? The last time I was here you were so small as Bowie.' 

The girl giggles. 'No, I wasn't. Did you bring Bowie?' 

Sander shakes his head. 'No, Bowie still has to get used to the new house. We can't bring him for a while.'

Mia gives him a disappointing look. 

'Why don't you come and visited Bowie? I am sure your mothers would like a day off. I have heard many stories, Mia!' 

The girl sticks her tongue out. 

'Where is Robbe?' 

'He is not coming.' 

'What? He also doesn't come? But he promised me.' 

The girl looks dismayed and gives him a pout 

Sander snorts. 'I am here. Am I not enough anymore?' 

Mia narrows her eyes and looks over his shoulder. 'He is here isn't he.' 

The artist ruffles through her hair. 'Yeah, he is in the car finishing a phone call.'

The girl gives him an annoyed look and smoothes her hair. 

'Don't do that. It took me forever to do it.' 

'O no, we can't mess up your hair, can't we? Little diva.'

'Mama told me you just to have white hair but that isn't true right?' 

'Well, I had it for a very short amount of time. It was a phase in my life.'

'Short amount of time? You had it for five whole years!' 

Robbe walks into the garden. 

Mia jumps out of Sander's arm to hug the other man who also brushes through her hair. 

'Why do people touch my hair all the time? It takes so much effort to get it this way' The girl wines before she fixes it again. 

Robbe gives her a smile. 'Won't do it again.' 

Mia shakes her head before she heads back inside. 

'You two are here already?' 

Britt walks through the door while her daughter runs past her. 

'Where is she going?' 

'To fix her hair.' 

The blond woman rolls her eyes. 

'She starts puberty earlier I can you tell you that for sure. She is obsessed with boys and makeup already.'

'Wonder from who she got that from.' 

Noor wraps an arm around her girlfriend. 

'Boys?' a frown appears on Sander's face. 

Robbe snorts 'Ow shut up you.' 

'No, I am going to talk to her. I need to teach her some important lessons.' 

'Sander, she is ten. She lives for attention.' 

'Yeah, maybe.' The artist scratches his head. 'Are we going to stand here the whole day or are we going inside?'

'Yeah, we were still cleaning up. You guys are like two hours early.' 

Robbe puts some grocery on the kitchen table. 'We came early to help, right Sander?' 

The younger man gives a strict glare towards his husband who is laying on the couch already.

'Jetlag, can't help it.' 

'Sander, please get your shoes off my new couch.' Britt gives him an annoyed look. 

The artist let out a sigh before he stands up again. 

'Also can one of you fix the damn light in the bedroom? It is flickering and it drives me fucking nuts. I can't even put on a proper eyeliner.' 

'Noor, please watch your language.' 

The woman with bangs rolls her eyes. 'She is not here right now?'

'I heard her swearing last week when she coloured outside the lines of a colouring page. She hears more than you think.' 

Britt gives her girlfriend a wink who rolls her eyes. 

'Jesus we haven't been in here for a few months and now she is swearing all ready? Britt, I expected better from you. It is a good thing that we are moving back.' Sander looks at a drawing on the fridge. 'Did she make this?'

'No Britt did it for our anniversary.' 

The artist rolls his eyes while Robbe snickers. 

'Well, she has improved a lot.'

'She wants to be an artist like you and Noor. She got mad at me that I didn't allow her to have a tattoo.' 

Britt sounds so indignant that Sander can't help but to laugh. 

'She is going to be a tough one in a few years.'

'Nothing that we can't handle. Do you guys want anything to drink? A beer of whine.' 

'Noor, it is 11 am.' 

'Well, it is going to be a rough day so let's get started earlier.'

Robbe rolls his eyes. 

'Don't pretend that you don't love it' Britt squeezes the cheeks of her girlfriend.

'I am so done with this!' A very angry Mia with tears on her face storms into the kitchen. A brush is stuck in her hair.' 'Why can't things ever go right for me?'

'Let me help you then.' 

Britt walks towards her daughter who away from her mother. 'No, it always hurts when you do it. Robbe needs to do it.' 

She gives the man puppy eyes 'you need to braid like last time.' 

The brown-eyed man gives her a wink. 'Your wish is my command. Do you have some hair ties?' 

The girl nods and pulls the man towards her room, talking loudly about the fact that her mother always screws her hair up. 

Britt shakes her head and sighs. 

'You okay baby?' 

Noor wraps her arms around her girlfriend. 

'Everything I do annoys her for some reason. I don't want to tell her off but I also don't want to raise a brat. Why is it so damn difficult to find the balance?' 

'Mia is not a brat. She is just a rebel, let her be. In a few years, she will realise how much you do for her.' 

Britt snort 'and you are in an expert?' 

Sander shrugs 'Not yet.' 

The eyes from Noor and Britt get big. 

'No fucking way! Finally!'

The black-haired girl pulls her arms around him to hug him. 

'I will wait with the details until Robbe is here. We wanted to tell everyone this afternoon but you two can already know. Since you have supported us through the entire process.' 

Britt kisses him on his cheek. 

'I am so proud of both of you. You have come so far. I can't fucking believe that you two are going to be dads! A boy or a girl?'

Sander shakes his head. 

'No details without Robbe.'

Noor gives him a pout but the artist shakes his head again. 

'A light in the bathroom you said? I will take a look.' 

'Rather Robbe, do you remember what you did last time?' Noor gives him a wink. 

'Fuck off that was an accident. That could have happened to the best.'

'Sure.'

Sander pulls a grumpy face and goes to sit in an armchair. 

'Then not. Who is coming tonight?' 

'Everyone but Moyo and his girlfriend. They are on a road trip through Europe. We are going to skype with them later.'

'Any news about someone?' 

'I believe that Jens has a boyfriend who is coming, but Robbe knows more about that I think.'

Britt comes to sit across him. 

'Did you invite Clarissa?'

Sander nods 'but she doesn't come. She has had a relapse. She is back in rehab.' 

'Fuck man. Where is Kaan living right now?'

The artist gets handed a glass of soda from Noor. 

'With my mother, I believe.' 

'What happened with Raphael?' 

'Clarissa and he are still getting a divorce. He lives with another woman now and he is not that interested in raising a child.' 

Britt let out a stream of curse words. 'Fucking son of a bitch.'

'Oh, and I need to watch my language?' 

The blond girl rolls her eyes. 

'How is your mother doing?' 

Sander sighs while he takes a sip of his glass. 

'I talked to her last months. She pretends that she is okay but she is falling apart.'

'You can't fucking blame her. After everything that happened with your dad.' 

Leo Driessen was found dead in his office. He had killed himself after he lost almost all his fortune in a bet. 

That was the first time his mother had reached out him after he had walked out four years ago. 

They cried for three hours straight over the phone. 

Justine Driessen had lost everything. 

Her husband, money and children. One of her kids didn't talk to her anymore and the other one was addicted to drugs. 

She wanted to restore the bond between her and her children. 

It started off with great difficulty. Sander was still mad at her and wasn't planning on forgiven her anytime soon. It hadn't escaped his notice that she only called when she didn't have any other option. 

Clarissa was for the first time in rehab and wasn't allowed to have any visitors. 

It took almost three years for the three of them to be together in one room. 

There was a lot of talking that day. 

Sander had learned a lot of things about his mother and he was prepared to tolerate her but nothing more. She wouldn't be a big part of his life anymore. 

Sometimes things just can't be fixed. He had closed his eyes to many times. Sorry wasn't enough for him. 

Clarissa, on the other hand, needed her mother and their bond could be restored. They even moved back in together when Clarissa got divorced.

The artist was happy for both of them. 

They didn't have a self-found family as he did. 

'Look, Sander!'

Mia was standing in front of him with her hairs beautiful braid. 

It was another hidden talent of his boyfriend. Sander still wasn't sure where his lover learned to do it. 

'That looks great sweetie. Hey, I saw that drawing on the fridge and it looks really good. You have are talented!'

Mia smile is brighter than the sun. 

'I want to get it tattooed just like you have but Mama won't let me.' 

The small girl gives her mother a deathly stare. 

'Don't be so mean to your mother, she is one of the best mamas in the entire world!'

Mia's face softens. 'I know that. She is way nicer than Kathleen's mother. I like Kathleen, but her mother wants to control everything.' 

The girl hugs her mother. 'You give me space.' 

Britt snorts 'Where did you get that from?' 

'Tv-show. Lola told it to Mitch.' 

Mia hops from the couch and runs towards the trampoline that she had gotten for her tenth birthday from Sander and Robbe.

The three adults look at her for a moment until they here a lot of noise upstairs and someone swearing loudly.

Noor sighs 'I will check on him.'

'Weird to think that I almost was the one who raised her.' 

'You have raised her.' 

'You know what I mean.' 

Britt snorts 'No one would have believed she was yours anyway. Look at her skin tone!' 

'Have you ever heard something from her dad? You knew who he was right?' 

The blond girl nods. 'Yeah, she looks a lot like him. There has even been a DNA test to prove it. It doesn't matter that much but she starts to ask questions.'

'What kind of questions?' 

'Why she has two mama's, why she only has one grandmother and grandfather, why doesn't she have a dad, why no brothers or sisters, if Noor is even her real mother. Stuff like that. It is nice that she has met her dad now. Some confusion is taken away by it.' 

'Is he planning to be an active part of her life?' 

Britt shrugs. 'I am not sure. He likes her but I think he is kind of scared. Can't blame him.' 

'Better does he make up his mind soon.' 

'He will, he promised me that.'

'Good to hear.'

It stays silent. 

'Sometimes I wish I was better at this' Britt sighs

'What do you mean?' Sander takes another sip of his soda. 

'I just wish I could be a better mother.'

'Britt, you are doing great despite everything.'

'But that is the thing. It is not her fault she was born in such a mess. I wish I could give her more but I don't know how to do it. I never had a good example.'

She rubs her face. 

'Maybe you can be the mother you wished you would have had.' 

'I try Sander, I really do.'

The artist squeezes her hand. 

They keep watching Mia playing in the garden until Robbe and Noor walk laughing back downstairs. 

Sander sighs when he sees his husband’s hand covered in bandages. 

'How cutie? How do you do it?' 

Robbe gives him a sheepish grin. 

* * *

Sander has known her for almost thirty years and yet he is still surprised at the fact that she is so bossy. 

Even when she can barely stand, she still orders everyone around. 

The artist feels bad for her husband. He gets the full load but he is probably used at it. They have been together for almost twelve years now. 

Amber announced six months ago that she was pregnant. One month later it turned out that she was expecting twins. 

Sander was happy for her. 

Their relationship wasn't what it used to be after their father's death but at the same time, it was actually the same. 

Amber founded it difficult that she had lost both her parents at a young age by the same cause. 

It had hurt her a lot more than she would show. 

She didn't want to talk about it. 

The girl would only talk about other people problems to forget her own. 

Sander and she talked to each other every week. Sometimes a phone call of not even a minute and sometimes a video call of five hours.

Their relationship remained complicated. The artist was fine with that. They would always be there for each other in their own way. 

Suddenly two arms are wrapped around his neck. 'Shall we do it now?'

His husband is standing in front of him. A twinkle in his brown eyes of excitement. 

The small party was already at full swing. 

Sander enjoyed moment like this. He was with people who he cared about (some more than others). It made him realise that he had quite a big circle of friends. Real friends. Not the one who only cared about his money or family name. No ones that wanted to hang out because they enjoyed each other company. 

It gave him a warm feeling in his stomach. 

'You want to do it?'

Robbe shakes his head. 'Together.'

Sander kisses him softly. 'Together' he agreed. 

'Hello everyone,-'

'Speech' Jens and Aaron were yelling and gather everyone's attention. 

'Robbe and I want to thank you for coming today. We are very happy to be back for real now. It was supposed to be at our place but the house is still not finished, unfortunately. After it is you are all welcome for sure.'

The taller man looks at his lover who takes over. 

'We just wanted to tell you that soon we will have another person living with us.' 

The reactions were varied. 

Some were shocked, others were already hugging them, Aaron didn't understand what they meant.

'Huh, another cat?' 

Amber rolls her eyes. 'A child Aaron, they are talking about a child.' 

There remains a confused expression on the brown curled man face. 'How does that work then?' 

'Adoption Aaron. I am sure you have heard of it.'

Robbe nudges his friend whose mouth falls open. 

'You bastard you never told anything. I told you when Amber and I were started to try for a baby.' 

The smile of the smaller boy faints a little. 'Yeah, it is slightly more complicated for us.'

That was an understatement. 

Adopting a child was not something that was done one minute. It was a long process. They had started it as soon as they got married almost three years ago. 

There were so many conditions and rules that it seemed almost impossible. The amount of bureaucracy drove Sander nuts. 

He just wanted to raise a child with his husband. 

Why were there so many rules and restrictions? 

Many countries didn't allow a same-sex couple to adopt children. 

It hadn't been easy for them. 

They received set back after, set back after, set back. So they decided not to tell almost nobody until they knew things for sure. 

Both of them almost lost hope until now. 

Last week they received a phone call. 

They had a soon to be born child that needed to be adopted. It was probably a girl. Her biological mother lived in Taiwan and wouldn't be able to take care of her because of her financial situation. 

The girl was due in a month. 

That was fast for both of them but they couldn't let this opportunity go. 

They would go to Taiwan next month. 

The timing could have been better but Sander didn't care. He was going to raise a child with the man of his dreams, what more could he want?'

They would stay in Taiwan for at least six weeks. The baby needed to stay with her biological mother for at least two weeks. Breastfeeding and shit. 

If the child could handle other milk they were allowed to leave early but they had already decided that they weren't going to do that. 

Flying with a child that was two years wasn't something they looked forward to. 

They would be new to parenting so they first needed to learn and practise. Luckily they had some experience with Mia. 

Sander was so excited. 

He had seen his husband interact with children many times before. It had always melted his heart. 

The artist couldn't wait until they would have a child to raise on their own. 

'It was nice to see everybody again without having to say goodbye for such a long time.' 

They were driving back to the cottage. It was already dark outside.

'Hmm, we are leaving soon again.' Sander let his hand rest on the thigh of his boyfriend. 

'But that is different. We call this place home now. I am happy we are back.' 

The artist smiles at him. 

'You are too, right?'

The older man nods. 'I am always happy as long as I am with you.' 

Robbe rolls his eyes 'It is unbelievable how much of sap you are.'

'You fucking love it.' 

'I do in fact.'

The smaller man places a kiss on the hand of his lover. 

'Remember what I told you about driving with one hand?' 

Sander chuckles 'How can I forget? It was the first time we hung out. You were scared I was going to kill you.' 

'You have no idea how you came across.' 

'How did I came across?' 

'As a mysterious douchebag.'

'You married that mysterious douchebag.' 

Robbe bites his lip and stares at his husband. 

'I did that, yeah.' 

'Do you regret it?'

'You have no idea.' 

Sander pulls his hand back. 'Well, in that case, there won't be any self-made breakfast for you tomorrow.'

'You were going to make breakfast?' 

'Correct, I was.' 

Robbe sighs. 

'Is there something I can do to change your mind?' 

The artist feels a small hand teasing his belt and stroking lightly over his private parts. 

'I am sure we can arrange something.' 

As soon as they come home, Robbe practically jumps him. The smaller man wraps his legs around Sander's waist. Soft lips are attacking his neck. 

'Wait, cutie. I want to show you something.' 

The younger boy whimpers. 'We can do that later.'

'No, it is a surprise for you. I want to get a reward.'

Robbe snorts. 'Oh really? What kind of reward?' 

Sander takes the hand of his husband. 'Kom, I want to show you something.' 

He guides his lover up the stairs. 

'Do you remember this room?' 

Robbe nods. 'It was nothing right? Just some storage?'

The artist stands still for the door. 'Promise me you are going to give me your honest opinion.'

The younger man gives him a confused look. 'What?' 

Sander opens the door slowly revealing the project he has worked on since they got the phone call. 

Robbe's eyes get big when he steps into the room. 

The artist has created the most beautiful baby room he has ever seen. 

'Is that-?' His soft voices stutter while he points at a painting on the wall.

Sander nods 'Yeah that is you, baby.' 

The room is painted in a soft yellow colour. On the wall is a painting of an angel in white. The angel has some similarities with the young doctor. 

Robbe traces the mural with his fingers. 'I can't believe you.'

'You don't like it?'

'I mean it is stunning but my face in the baby room? Isn’t that creepy?' 

'Nothing is wrong with your face and it is more a sketch. It is kind of the same as a picture isn’t it? I didn't have time to finish it for real by the way. We still need to buy furniture and stuff-'

The smaller boy interrupts him by kissing him. 

'I can't fucking believe you. How are you real?' 

The brown eyes stare at him so intensely yet so soft that Sander melts. He is still so gone for his husband. 

'I ask myself that same question about you every day.' 

'Let's go to our room.' 

The artist takes his lover's hand. 'Let's do that.' 

* * *

It never gets old. Not even after all those years. The body of his lief still gives him so much satisfaction. 

There is no better feeling in the world. 

They are laying in each other's arms. Coming down from their high, enjoying the warmth of their bodies, tracing the skin softly, nod off a little. 

'I love all your tattoos but this one is my favourite.' 

Robbe points towards his butterfly above his elbow. 

'Hmm, that was my second tattoo. I got it just after we met.'

'Any special meaning or is it just pretty?' 

'I wanted to have a matching tattoo met Harry Styles.'

The younger man snorts. 'Sure you would want that. How doesn’t want that?'

‘It has many meanings but for me it means transformation.'

'Elaborate?' 

Sander chuckles 'Alright doctor Driessen-Ijzermans.' He just knows that Robbe is rolling his eyes. 

'As you know I was at a low point in my life. I wanted so many things to change but I didn't know how or where to start until I met you.'

'So this tattoo is dedicated to me?' The other man is teasing him. 

'Well, maybe a little bit. You were the one that helped me with my transformation. The butterfly as also the symbolic meaning of rebirth, lightness, playful, the circle of life that kind of shit. I just wanted to be someone else. Perhaps it is cheesy but at that time I felt like a caterpillar who desperately wanted to become a butterfly. That tattoo was a wish for the future'

'That is kind of poetic.' 

'I know right? Mega brain over here.' Sander ticks on his own forehead. 

Robbe kisses him. 'You are still an idiot.'

'My wish came true though.' 

Sander takes a look at his handsome husband in bed. 

He was going to be a father soon, he lived in a beautiful house, his job was his hobby. He still had bad days but who hadn’t have them?

He was truly happy right now

So yeah, his wish really did come true.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that was the last chapter.  
> Thanks for reading, the kudos and the lovely comments! 
> 
> I am taking a short break from uploading every day. I am still going to write, but I am not sure when I will upload (probably in a day or two). 
> 
> I hope you that you have a great day!

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know if you notice any spelling or grammar mistake!


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